Made for Each Other
by Tokki-Trigger1995
Summary: They were a balance. As long as they fought, everything would be all right. But they don't want to fight anymore and nothing is all right. Very loosely inspired by 'More than Human' by Sbj. Rated for dark-ish themes, violence, language, implied sexual content, and mild drug use. Should be rated T over 16. Reds, blues, and greens but not without one hell of a fight. On hiatus.
1. Made for Each Other

**Author's Note: **This is the new and improved first chapter of 'More'! Admittedly, it's not very different, but the formatting has changed and we get to see a more graphic side to Buttercup's healing powers. :3 I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long but this summer, you're looking at AT LEAST 6 chapters (hopefully). Keep reminding me to update with reviews, okay? :3

**Disclaimer: **The only thing I own is the story line. Everything else belongs to whoever the hell created the PowerPuff girls. :3

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>  
><strong>Made for Each Other<strong>

Killing her and her sisters will make everything easier, right? It will make every little thing better.

For who? For him and his brothers of course. For his "fathers", he supposes. For every single villain in Townsville and everywhere else. Sure, he and his brothers aren't exactly _villains_ anymore, but they've done shit. Deep, dark shit that nobody should ever hear and that they should never be forgiven for. Does he really want another strike on his already destroyed-beyond-repair record?

Maybe the headstrong girls will see some good in him and his brothers.

He could probably kill her right now and take complete control of the city despite what he and his brothers discussed. She's pinned right under him, almost the whole right side of her body _shattered._

"Bet the X is fixing you really nice, doll," he twitches excitedly, tightening his grip on her broken wrist. The dull, erratic throbbing of her pulse tells him he has a few more minutes until she's completely healed, and he can't have that, now can he?

"Between now and the next, oh I dunno, seven minutes, I'll be able to do whatever the _fuck _I want to do with your body," he tells her, running his tongue along her cheek despite the blood and dust on her skin, "You won't be able to do a damn thing."

"You better kill me first," she forces out, and she winces as her body burns with every breath she takes. She looks right into his jade-green eyes, her own glazed-over emeralds darkening with accusation.

"Don't look at me like that," he growls, twitching again as he bends her already-broken wrist more, "It's like you expect me to murder you. Or torture you. I'm a lot of things, toots, but I'm afraid 'monster' isn't one of them."

"I fucking hate your eyes, though," he continues, twitching again, "And I hate your sisters' eyes. They're too much darker than ours. And _we're _the evil ones."

"Fuck you," she manages to spit out, "Fuck you _and_ your brothers and _everything_ you've done to us."

"I guess I'll have to live with it," he sighs, ignoring her and rolling his eyes, "We all will. We're made for each other, after all."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" she snaps, craning her head and angrily narrowing her eyes despite the ache it causes.

He answers her by pushing her deeper into the ground, keeping the right side of her body unhealed. "You curse too much."

"Stop that, you fucking asshole!" she orders, still too weak to shoot eyebeams.

"I was made for you, _Buttercup,_" he says, twitching as he practically spits out her name, "And you? You were made for me."

"You're _insane_!" she yells, physically unable to do anything else, "You don't know _shit._"

"You don't believe me?" he questions, raising a jet-black eyebrow, "Oh, wait. Of course you don't. You're _Buttercup_. Headstrong, abrasive, _infuriating_ Buttercup. It doesn't even matter if you believe it or not. That's the best part. You have no control. What's done is done."

He's got a smug smirk on his face and she wants nothing more than to spit in his face.

So she does.

He nonchalantly presses his knee into her stomach and she feels the need to vomit as he begins moving higher up on her body to give himself more leverage as he grabs a fistful of her hair to wipe the spit off.

"My brothers are probably giving your sisters a good talking' to," he says, getting off of her and dusting his clothes off, "And I'd say you've got enough X to finally heal yourself with."

Streaks of red and dark blue suddenly fly across the sky, landing right beside them.

The red Ruff lands silently, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks at his jade-eyed brother and the middle Puff in recognition but does nothing else.

"Damn, Butch," says the blue Ruff, in almost-disbelief, "If you were just gonna rough her up, you didn't have to take her outside city limits."

"We would've destroyed a bunch of buildings," grumbles the middle Ruff, as a blinding white light surrounds the ebony-haired girl while she heals herself, "You told me to avoid as much damage as possible."

He listens to her bones realign with sickening pops and cracks and tries to resist looking as her skin seams itself together again.

"Since when the hell do you three care about what you break and what you don't break?" she asks, scoffing as she spits blood out of her mouth, "You crumple buildings like paper."

"You didn't talk to her?" the garnet-eyed leader now asks his brother, eyes narrowing.

"I _tried,_" defends the jade-eyed Ruff, holding his hands up in defeat, "The bitch doesn't listen."

"Is this some more of that stupid 'made-for-you' shit?" she asks, rolling her eyes as she stands up and dusts herself off, "Because if it is, I don't wanna hear it."

"Go home, toots," says Butch, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in annoyance, "We aren't following you this time."

And the RowdyRuff Boys fly into the sky, leaving nothing behind except streaks of red, dark blue and dark green.

* * *

><p>The door slams shut as she walks into her living room, her sisters already home.<p>

"He can't be trusted, Bubbles," comes the stern voice of the lead Puff, scolding the youngest sister for whatever reason, "You know what they've done."

"They aren't criminals anymore," the blonde defends, her sapphire-blue eyes almost desperate for her sister to believe, "Sure, they still cause a little bit of trouble, but it's nothing more than loitering or littering."

"Don't tell me Bloomers gave you a fucking 'made-for-you' speech," groans Buttercup, running a hand through her jet-black hair.

"Watch your language," snaps Blossom, eyes narrowing disapprovingly at her sister as she wraps her hand around the rosary hanging between her breasts after making the sign of the cross, "_Our father, who art in heaven_…"

"And it's _Boomer, _for your information!" adds Bubbles, almost screeching.

"I don't give a damn what his name is," spits the green Puff, wrinkling her face in disgust, "He's a piece of shit, just like his brothers!"

"I just said to watch your language!" growls Blossom, clenching her fists, "… _Give us this day, our daily bread_…"

"You don't get it, do you?" yells Buttercup, losing her temper, "We don't have souls! 'God' doesn't care about us!"

The blonde puff gasps, eyes going wide as she stares at the middle sister in shock before snapping to the leader. The black-haired girl's eyes widen as she realizes what she just said and then looks ashamed of herself.

"That language will not be tolerated here," says the red Puff, her ruby-colored eyes closing as she grips the rosary tighter, "Either you stop, or you get out of this house… _But deliver us from evil. Amen._"

"I'm sorry, okay Bloss?" sighs the emerald-eyed sister, feeling guilty and not willing to fight at the moment, "Butch just said some shi—I mean, stuff that made me mad."

"I think we can all agree that the RowdyRuff Boys made us quite upset today," responds the auburn-haired leader, nodding, "Brick proposed a truce today."

"A what?" asks the blonde Puff, jaw dropping.

"A truce," the ruby-eyed girl repeats, "Every villain in Townsville is strangely willing to cooperate. Even HIM."

"In exchange for what?" asks Buttercup, clenching her fists, "If we don't have to fight, what will we do? What if it's a trap?"

Blossom looks at her sisters, first Bubbles, and then Buttercup. She contemplates several scenarios, some ending well and other ending terribly.

"I don't know".

* * *

><p>She floats in front of his window, silently contemplating whether or not to knock. She sees her counterpart lying on his navy blue bed, staring at the ceiling.<p>

They proposed a truce, didn't they? It's safe for her to be there. It should be, at least.

_Of course it's safe for me, _she says, reassuring herself, _They wouldn't do anything because of the truce._

She takes a deep, shaky breath before tapping on the window with her knuckles.

Her male double opens the window, his topaz-blue eyes widening in shock as he stares at her.

"Stop staring," she mumbles, shyly looking at the floor below her floating form.

"Sorry," he replies quickly, averting his gaze, "How do you know where I live?"

"Your house is kinda the only one connected to Mojo Jojo's lair," she says, still avoiding his eyes and face.

"Oh," he says, feeling dumb, "What's up?"

She sighs. "You all proposed a truce to stop us from fighting and gave us each speeches on being made for each other," she says, shaking her head as she tries to convince herself to believe it, "What's the catch, Boomer? What are we supposed to do?"

He says nothing to her but retreats into his room, beckoning her to follow. She flies in gracefully and lands on his plush carpet, looking around.

His room is relatively clean, save for a shirt or pair of boxers here and there, both of which she ignores, and canvases, paints, and other drawing materials in a corner. The walls are a nice, calming azure blue, but what catches her attention is his ceiling.

Painted onto it is a flawless cityscape of Townsville at night, its lights at their brightest and the sky resting above it at its darkest.

"Like it?" he asks her, bemused by her expression of wonder, "It took me weeks to finish."

"You did that?" she asks, sapphire eyes wide in shock.

"No need to act too surprised," he says, rolling his eyes, "But yeah, I did. I personally prefer abstract, or pop art, but I couldn't resist something like that."

"It's beautiful," she breathes, walking up to him, "Much better than any of my sketches."

"You really shouldn't be this close to me," he says, voice dropping as he moves his hand to stroke her platinum blonde hair, "This is my territory. I can hurt you more here."

"Are you going to?" she asks, closing her eyes and shivering as she unconsciously moves towards him.

He moves his hand away from her hair but doesn't step any farther away from her. "You should go home."

"But you haven't answered my question yet," she pouts.

"Once we start what we're about to do, we can't turn back, Bubbles," he tells her seriously, looking into her eyes for the first time that night, "I mean it. To stop would be worse than to keep going."

She wants to ask exactly what he's talking about when she catches him eying her body.

"Why that?" she asks, finally catching on.

"You were made to take my hits," he responds, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair, "I was made to take yours. Fighting neutralized our powers. You know our power builds up. You know we need to get rid of the excess power before it blows up. Training simulations will only last so long. Now that we're not fighting each other, we need something else."

"But _this_?" she asks, desperately confused, "I was raised abstinent."

"This is the only thing we can do with as much… physical effort, as fighting," he says, unable to find a better word, "If I really wanted you, I would've waited for you to come to me. This is just something we have to do. We can break humans, Bubbles. We can rip them to shreds by accident. But I can only hurt you as much as you can hurt me."

She tries to think of something, anything, but finds that she can't. His words are too real. They make too much sense. It's not very fair.

"I'm not asking you to love me. I'm not even asking you to like me, or want me. We have to do this. If there was a different way-"

She cuts him off and takes his face in her hands instead, crushing her lips onto his in an attempt to blur her mind from thinking about how dirty she feels because she doesn't love him as she reminds herself that this is her duty to the city.

"Don't stop."


	2. Never Home Anymore

**Author's Note: **This is the new and improved chapter two! Just fixed up some typos and added translations where they're needed. I hope you enjoy. :3 Chapter three will also be up later today (hopefully). :D DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW AND ENJOY!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Puffs. Or the Ruffs. Or a calculator.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two<br>Never Home Anymore**

The red-haired Ruff answers the door and raises an eyebrow at his counterpart, seemingly unsurprised, as if he expected her. Then, he catches sight of the green Puff standing right next to her and crosses his arms over his chest coolly, leaning on the doorframe. "A threesome?"

"I'm not here for you, _Neanderthal_," she informs him, her voice disgusted and her eyes icy, "We're here to talk about the truce."

"You're missing one," he points out, smirking as he mentions the absence of the blonde sister.

"We are aware of that," says the auburn-haired girl, gritting her teeth almost angrily, "We have reason to believe that she's already here. With your brother."

"And why is that?" the garnet-eyed Ruff smirks as the green brother joins him at the door, "Could it be because, oh I don't know, they're _sleeping together_?"

"There is no solid proof of that!" growls the ebony-haired girl as her sister clenches her fists, "She might not even be here."

"Oh, trust us," says Butch, grinning like the Cheshire cat himself, "She's here."

"And how would you know?" asks Buttercup, narrowing her eyes at the possible answer as the ruby-eyed girl makes the sign of the cross, preparing for what she knows will come next.

The green Ruff's grin is impish and perverse, an exact opposite of his brother's apathetic demeanor. "She's a screamer."

The emerald-eyed Puff lands her fist on her male counterpart's jaw, anger radiating off of her in waves as it undeniably breaks beneath her fist. "Shut the fuck up!"

"Buttercup!" the blue Puff exclaims from the top of the stairs as the oldest sister begins to mumble her prayers, "What are you doing?!"

Her topaz-eyed double is standing next to her, confused as he looks at his brothers. "What's going on?" he asks the one with the red hair, "Are you guys fighting again?"

"Nothing's going on," Brick replies smoothly, shrugging his shoulders, "Just explaining how you two… get rid of your excess power."

"Brick, please tell me you didn't," says Bubbles, looking almost frantic.

"I did," says the green Ruff while cracking his chin back into place. The X in his blood throbs as it heals at an inhuman pace, "Fucking shit, bitch! That fucking hurt!"

"… _Thy kingdom come, thy will be done…_" mutters Blossom under her breath, still holding the rosary around her neck in her hand, "… _On earth as it is in heaven…_"

"What the hell is she doing?" asks Brick, raising an eyebrow at his female counterpart.

"Praying," replies Buttercup, rolling her eyes as she turns to the blonde Puff, "C'mon, Bubbles. It's time for you to go home. You remember where that is, right? You live there."

"What's gotten into you two?" asks the sapphire-eyed sister, confused, "We're not doing anything wrong."

"Fraternizing with the enemy is wrong," snaps Blossom, narrowing her eyes at the thought as she finishes her prayers, "And pre-marital sex is wrong. What would the Professor think if he were alive?"

The blue Puff's eyes widen a fraction of a second before she looks down at the floor in defeat. She floats over to her sisters solemnly, her head still staring at the flawless hard-wood floor.

"You can see him this weekend, but you're no longer allowed to stay the night," sighs Blossom, giving in, "You at least waited longer than Buttercup."

"I was drunk!" defends the middle sister, crossing her arms, ignoring the green Ruffs all-knowing grin despite his still healing jaw.

"You were also only fourteen. And Mitch was disgusting," hisses the lead Puff, narrowing her eyes at the thought, "Let's go home now. This is enemy territory."

"Was," corrects Butch, his jaw now fully-healed, thanks to the Chemical X in his blood, "We're all in a truce, remember?"

"We'll see. There's a press conference this weekend in the town hall. Look professional."

* * *

><p>"They're not showing up."<p>

"They have to," the lead Puff replies, taking a deep breath, "This conference will determine the public's view of the truce."

"Why should we give a damn?" snorts the green Puff, ever the lady, "We're the ones protecting the damn city."

"Watch your language," Blossom snaps, making the sign of the cross and resting her hand on her ever-present rosary, "_Our father, who art in heaven…_"

"Sorry we're late."

The three Puffs turn their heads to the door and see the RowdyRuff Boys, tidy and groomed.

"How do I look?" asks Brick, adjusting the cuff of his red dress shirt, his signature red baseball cap on his head. His tone is mocking, challenging, and daring the ruby-eyed girl to point out a flaw.

"Presentable," she sneers, nodding her head, "For you, of course."

"Did the wind just blow? Or was it the Ice Princess?" asks Butch, looking around and feigning shivers, the sleeves of his green dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, "Whadaya think of my getup?"

"You always look disgusting, Butch," hisses the emerald-eyed sister, fake-smiling, "It makes me want to vomit on you."

"I look fine, right Bubbles?" asks the youngest Ruff, looking at his counterpart as he shuffles awkwardly.

The blonde Puff floats over to her topaz-eyed counterpart and smiles at him brightly, straightening the collar of his shirt and straightening his silk black tie. "You look great, Boomer."

He sighs in relief and runs a nervous hand through his wavy, dirty blonde hair. "Why aren't you nervous?"

"Oh, I am," she replies, smoothing down the wrinkles in the skirt of her black pencil skirt and fixing her baby blue blouse, "We just do this a lot."

"It's show time," announces Blossom, looking professional in her skirt and jacket suit combo, a bright pink tank top underneath as she looks at the Ruffs, "Try not to embarrass us."

Buttercup stops twiddling with the silver charm bracelet on her right wrist, the only charm being a letter B encrusted with emeralds.

Blossom and Bubbles eyes their own bracelets, the B's encrusted with rubies and sapphires respectively.

"Wish us luck, Professor," whispers the blonde Puff, kissing her charm. She holds hands with her counterpart and they lead the way into the conference hall.

The jade-eyed Ruff offers his arm to his ebony-haired double but she glares at him in disgust before brushing past. He follows, his hands shoved in his pockets and a smirk on his face.

The garnet-eyed Ruff offers his arm to his counterpart, and she eyes him suspiciously before tanking it. "No need to be afraid of me, Red," he tells her, rolling his eyes, "We suggested this truce. We're not gonna go messing it up."

"I'm not afraid," she hisses, narrowing her eyes, "Just cautious."

"Whatever you say," he sighs, leading her into the conference hall. They take their seats in the middle of a long, rectangular table, their faces stone cold and professional.

"What did you two do back there?" hisses the green Puff beside her, "Make out?"

"Now is not the time for that, Buttercup," the auburn-haired sister hisses back, narrowing her eyes as the moderator finishes the introductions.

"The Question and Answer session will now begin," the moderator announces.

About a dozen different hands shoot up before Blossom picks a woman near the back, an elegantly twisted bun on her head.

"My question is for the RowdyRuff Boys," she says, notepad in hand, "Sources say that the truce that was proposed includes the cooperation of every villain in Townsville, USA. How do you plan on ensuring the truce isn't broken?"

"I'm unaware whether or not your sources have informed you of who our 'fathers' are," says Brick, leaning forward to speak into his microphone, "But as you can see, the crime rate in Townsville has been dropping tremendously during the past few months. The villains are aging, and growing tired. HIM, Mojo Jojo, and ourselves included."

"Anybody stupid enough to break the truce is gonna be answering to HIM," Butch adds, an almost perverse grin on his face, "We wouldn't be seeing them for a long time."

"We know it sounds practically impossible," interjects Boomer, the complete opposite of Butch, "But it's been eleven years. We've had nobody but each other as friends, and have never been able to pursue what we really like." He pauses. "We've discussed it with Mojo Jojo. If needed, we are willing to take regular doses of Antidote X."

The crowd stays silent in wide-eyed surprise before a younger woman in front raises her hand.

"Yes, you," says Brick, pointing at her, "The one with the curly brown hair."

"Will you boys be joining the PowerPuff Girls in participating in the spring fashion show in Milan?" she asks, her honey-gold eyes wide.

"You can expect us at all of the girls' appearances," says the garnet-eyed Ruff, nodding his head, "That includes publicity appearances and, of course, the charity dinners and community affairs."

The crowd bursts into mutters and camera flashes until a man with salt-and-pepper hair raises his hand. "What do you three plan to do about your schooling?"

"We've been homeschooled thus far," reveals the dirty-blonde Ruff, shrugging, "We're planning on going to Pokey Oaks High with the girls in fall. We turned in our applications this morning."

"We want our lives as normal as possible," continues Brick, "If ever there's a problem after today, we plan on working with the girls."

"As if we'll need your help," scoffs Buttercup under her breath, receiving a glare from her sister.

"Speaking of working," the salt-and-pepper haired man continues, looking at Blossom, "Do you and your sisters plan on continuing the work of your late creator, Professor John Utonium?"

"We will, in fact, be continuing some of our late _father's_ work," states Blossom, her ruby-red eyes hardening, "Professor Utonium has only ever referred to us as his daughters. We would appreciate if we continued to be recognized as such."

"But surely it's inappropriate," the man says, looking confused, "You three were created, not born. You don't even classify as human, you were chemically created in a lab. You share none of his blood. How can you be his daughters?"

"Please exit the conference," Blossom says, icily.

"What?" asks the man, automatically confused, "Miss Utonium, I—"

"Please leave before I have Buttercup exit you out," she interrupts, the ebony-haired sister already standing up and cracking her knuckles, "We refuse to tolerate any disrespect towards our relationship with our father. Please refrain from ever appearing at another one of our events ever again."

The man stares at her in shock, still unmoving, when Buttercup stomps her foot, hard enough to shake a bit of earth, but not enough to do real damage. "Walk," she growls, narrowing her emerald-green eyes.

The man struggles to pick up his stuff and exits the hall, scurrying like a mouse.

"Anymore questions?" the moderator asks, sweating a bit as the boys eye the girls a bit oddly.

"Miss Utonium," calls a much younger man, no older than twenty-three, "In your father's will, it is stated that, in the event of his death, Project Immortality is to be left in the hands of you and your sisters. Is this one of the projects you will be continuing?"

"After thoroughly discussing Project Immortality with my sisters, we have come to the agreement to discontinue his work on this particular topic," the lead Puff answers, her ruby-red eyes daring someone to challenge their decision, "This project, if continued, would disrupt the world's natural order. We refuse to play God's role in the world."

"Utonium-san!" calls a woman near the front, raising a well-manicured hand as another woman stands with her, "Tsugi no santsu no kōryo, Tōkyō de intabyū o uketa koto ga arimasu ka?"[1] As soon as she finishes talking, the other woman begins translating the question, and afterwards, translates Bubble's response.

"Hai," nods Bubbles, happy to be able to finally talk, "Watashi no shimai to tetteitekina giron o shita nochi, wareware wa 10 tsuki no itsuka de wa, Roshia de no wareware no satsuei-go ni Nippon ni tōjō suru koto ni kimeta."[2]

"Miss Utonium!" another man calls with another translator, "Znaete li vy, yesli imelo mesto ustanovki daty Fotosessiya osenʹ?"[3]

The blonde Puff thinks for a while, then shakes her head. "Hotya tochnaya data ne ustanovlena, my soglasilis', chtoby on kogda-to okolo serediny mesyatsa."[4]

Two of the RowdyRuff Boys stare at the youngest sister in shock while their leader has a flawless eyebrow raised in question.

"Is she speaking Russian?" asks the jade-eyed Ruff, looking at the fiery-haired Ruff in disbelief, "I didn't know she spoke Russian."

"She was speaking Japanese before that," the garnet-eyed brother says, nodding his head, "Must be her special power. No wonder we have so many alliances with different countries." He turns to his topaz-eyed brother. "You didn't know about this?"

He thinks back. "She moans in Portuguese sometimes."

* * *

><p>They sit in her room quietly, him coolly inspecting her lime-green walls and her sitting on her unmade bed, a notebook in her lap.<p>

"Why are you and the Ice Princess so against this again?" he suddenly questions, looking at her with his jade-green eyes. "Is it really that bad?"

She sighs and puts down her lyric book, emerald-green eyes rolling. "You and your brothers were villains, Butch," she says, stating the obvious, "You've been trying to kill is for eleven years."

"And what's wrong with that?" asks the black-haired male, genuinely confused, "The past is the past. Can't you guys get past that?"

She sighs again, the lyrics in her beat-up black and green composition book staring up at her in dark blue ink.

_Baby, with the way you lie, you could be a politician._

"Your brother is just gonna use her," she says, staring at her lime green wall to avoid her double's eyes, "He's just gonna throw her around like a Raggedy Anne doll and leave her whenever he wants to."

He looks at her, confused at her sudden pause and then lets out a bitter sweet laugh. "You're fucking kidding me!" he yells, a semi-hurt look on his face, "Don't compare my brother to me, Buttercup. He won't fuck her over like I did to you."

He paces in front of her bed, running a hand through his long, spiky hair before stopping in front of her. "It was two fucking years ago! I was fifteen for Christ's sake!"

"And I was fourteen!" she counters, throwing her alarm clock and hitting him square in the chest, "I wasn't even going to say that! Stop thinking you're the cause of every problem in my life!"

"Aren't I?" he yells back, throwing the alarm clock at the wall and leaving a small crater as he walks up to her bed, "Who else could cause problems in your perfect little life?!" He slowly calms, feeling twitches sneaking up on him as he tries to regain control. "I didn't ask you to kill it."

Her eyes widen as memories rush into her mind. Why did he have to fucking say that? Anger floods her blood as she looks at him in disbelief that he would bring it up. "Shut up," she hisses, kneeling on her bed to look him in the eye while she shakes her head, "Shut the fuck up."

"Buttercup!" he growls in frustration, grabbing her wrists to run her hands over his neck and face, "Feel this? Hear my voice? You can fucking see me! I fucking exist! I'm fucking real and it terrifies you! But you can't shut me out and pretend I'm not fucking here! You can't pretend that you didn't kill a piece of me and a piece of you!"

She wrenches her arms away from him, her emerald-colored eyes so icy he can feel himself freezing with every breath he takes. "Watch me."

* * *

><p>"She's not here."<p>

"Yes, Brick," says the auburn-haired Puff, closing her eyes and nodding her head, "I am aware of that."

"So where the fuck is she?" asks the jade-eyed Ruff, tapping his foot impatiently, "I don't exactly wanna be the only one here without a fucking date!"

"I don't know where she is, obviously. And I am _not _Brick's date," says Blossom, making the sign of cross and holding the rosary around her neck, "_Our father, who art in heaven…_"

"How the hell do you deal with that?" he asks, looking at the lead Ruff expectantly, "Whatever. Can you find her?"

"You guys shouldn't leave," says the blonde Puff, walking up to them, "It's bad enough Buttercup's missing. If you guys leave, the press will notice something's up and we won't be able to play off her being sick."

"Where's Boomer?" asks the ruby-eyed Puff, looking at her sister, "You didn't leave him alone, did you? Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"We're on your side, Red," says Brick, rolling his eyes, "Get over it."

"He's in the bathroom," says the youngest Puff, shrugging, "Anyway, we need some way to find Buttercup without leaving."

"Brick can do it!" volunteers the topaz-eyed Ruff, walking up to them, "It's his 'special power'."

"You're a tracker?" asks the oldest sister, eyes widening in surprise.

"Not exactly," he says, shaking his head, "But it was a good guess, toots." He closes his garnet-colored eyes, focusing on nothing but the green Puff.

_Messy chocolate-brown hair and piercing obsidian eyes. Hands and teeth and tongues and lust so thick she thinks she'll choke on it._

_There's heat. So much motherfucking heat she's amazed she's not melting._

_Her ivory-white skin against a light caramel tone._

_A whispered name._

He opens his eyes, staring at both sisters and slowly raising a slightly skeptical eyebrow. "She's having… sex right now."

"With who?" hisses the red Puff, eyes narrowing in anger.

"A guy named Mitch," her counter-part replies, watching her reaction.

She freezes. "She's sleeping with _Mitch_?"

"Mitch Mitchelson?" asks Bubbles, surprised, "I thought he was sleeping with Princess Morbucks."

"They broke up," says the ruby-eyed Puff, pressing her lips into a grim line.

"Wait," says Butch, putting up a hand, "_Princess Morbucks_? He boned _Princess Morbucks_?"

"You know her?" asks Bubbles, sapphire-blue eyes wide.

"Know her?" he asks, eyebrows shooting up, "I _dated_ her. But it's not surprising you don't know that." The girls eye him oddly and he shrugs just as a tall, blonde woman with her nose in the air walks up to Bubbles.

"Miss Bubbles?" she asks, raising an unimpressed eyebrow, "Mr. Abrahamsen vill göra din bekantskap."[5]

"Vad?" asks the blue Puff, eyes wide in shock, "Rasmus Abrahamsen vill träffa mig?"[6]

"Nej," says the woman, cutting off her excitement and eyeing them all distastefully, "Mr. Abrahamsen skulle vilja träffa dig och dina systrar, men eftersom den groan verkar saknas, du fem kommer att göra. Följ mig, vänligen."[7] She leads the youngest sister away, gesturing for the others to follow.

"Where are we going?" asks the red Puff, eyeing the woman suspiciously.

"We're meeting _Rasmus Abrahamsen_!" squeals the blue Puff dreamily, earning an eye roll from her counter-part.

"_The _Rasmus Abrahamsen?" asks the garnet-eyed brother, only a hint of surprise in his voice, "Really?"

"Who's that?" asks the green Ruff, confused.

"He's like Sweden's Donald Trump," says Brick, "His corporation is one of Townsville's most important businesses."

"He's so hot!" the blonde Puff sighs dreamily.

"He _is _quite handsome," Blossom nods, agreeing, "He's also a notorious playboy."

"There he is!" Bubbles whispers excitedly, ignoring her sister's words, "Act naturally!"

* * *

><p>"I can crash here, right?"<p>

The chocolate-haired young man next to her eyes her strangely, and then nods his head carefully. "Sure," he says, placing kisses on her neck and shoulder, "My parents are out of town right now. Is something wrong?"

She strokes the arm around her waist and sighs. "I just don't feel like being home right now."

"Like you didn't feel like being at that charity thing tonight?" he counters, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Are you implying something?" she asks, slightly narrowing her eyes and looking up at him.

"Of course not," he defends, pulling her closer to his bare form, "But you don't usually skip things that deal with your image and let me bone you till kingdom come."

"Butch was gonna be my 'date' tonight," she admits, sighing, "I can't even go near him without wanting to kick an innocent bystander in the face. He's a disgusting, pig-headed, testosterone-fueled moron."

"So a teenage boy, right?"

She laughs. "Yes, Mitch. A teenage boy."

"You're welcome to stay as long as you like, you know."

"I know," she responds, nodding her head and looking up at him suggestively, "But I don't wanna go to bed just yet."

* * *

><p><strong>Translations<strong>

[1] Miss Utonium, have you and your sisters taken the interview in Tokyo into consideration?

[2] After having a thorough discussion, we decided to make an appearance in Japan after our photo-shoot in Russia, sometime in the month of October.

[3] Do you know if there has been a set date for the Autumn photo-shoot in Russia?

[4] Although the exact date is not set, we agreed to have it in the middle of the month.

[5] Mr. Abrahamsen wishes to make your acquaintance.

[6] What? THE Rasmus Abrahamsen wants to meet me?

[7] No. Mr. Abrahamsen wishes to meet you and your sisters. Since the green one seems to be missing, you five will have to do. Follow me, please.


	3. When the Truth Comes Out

**Author's Note: **Wow, I'm just posting up A LOT today, aren't I? Aren't you happy? :D I really like this chapter, and hopefully I don't lose my motivation any time soon. :3 Anyway, enjoy and review. :D

**Disclaimer: **It's not mine. I have nothing. NOTHING, I SAY!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<br>When the Truth Comes Out**

She sneaks into the house from the front door, knowing that flying through the widow would be extremely risky, and quietly shuts the door behind her.

She tiptoes forward, less than two feet away from the stairs, her heart pounding in her ears and threatening to explode.

"Where were you last night?"

The green Puff stays quiet, but flinches at the venom in her sister's words.

"I asked you where you were!" the red Puff finally shouts, losing her temper.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, the emerald-eyed girl chuckles, though the sound is bitter. "Well, would you look at that," she almost sneers. "The Ice Princess is losing her temper. You must be shacking it up with the Fire Prince."

"This isn't about me," hisses the leader, narrowing her ruby-red eyes, "Now answer my question: _Where were you last night_?"

"What do you want me to say, Blossom?" asked the ebony-haired sister, sighing exasperatedly, "That I was stuck in traffic? Well, I wasn't. That I was kidnapped? I wasn't."

"I want you to tell me why you weren't at the charity dinner last night," says the red-haired Puff, narrowing her eyes threateningly, "And I want the truth."

"Fine," the other snaps, emerald eyed blazing, "I was with Mitch, in his bedroom. And we were having _sex._"

"You're _disgusting_," the red Puff hisses, narrowing her eyes.

"_I'm_ disgusting?" exclaims Buttercup, eyes widened in disbelief, "What about Bubbles, huh? She's probably with the little bastard now, boning away like rabbits in heat!"

"Boomer is at _least_ one of us!" yells Blossom, stomping her foot, "Boomer isn't as _breakable_ as Mitch is!"

"This is all because Mitch is _human_?"

"No, it's because you _aren't_!"

Complete and utter silence fills the room, choking them both.

"I fucking hate you."

And the green Puff doesn't look back as she slams the door shut.

* * *

><p>"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."<p>

She closes her ruby-red eyes and bows her head, her auburn bangs shielding her face.

"And what is it you have done, my child?" he asks through the screen separating them.

"I… I made my sister hate me," she admits quietly, the words hurting her, "I called her disgusting for being intimate with a man whom she is not wed."

"If my memory serves me correct, your other sister is doing the same with a boy that used to be your enemy," he says, clarifying.

"But the one Buttercup is with is human, Father Lawrence," she explains, shaking her head, "It's not the same. Mitch is too easily broken, too simply destroyed."

"Mitch Mitchellson?" he asks, his thick black eyebrows shooting up, "I thought he was sleeping with Princess Morbucks."

The lead Puff stares at her pastor in disbelief as he clears his throat. "Sorry," he mumbles, "Do you not trust that your sister knows her limits?"

"Of course I do," she states, nodding, "It's just that…"

"I think you need to mean that the next time you say it," he says, and through the screen she sees him nod, "Is there anything else you would like to confess?"

She pauses. "I've been having these… dreams."

"I see," nods the aging man in understanding, "And what happens in these dreams of yours?"

The lead Puff blushes bright red as the image of two bodies pressed intimately together enters her mind.

She can practically _feel _him, his heat next to her, above her, ins-

"Blossom?"

"I'm sorry, Father," she somehow manages to say without stuttering, "I have nothing left to confess."

* * *

><p>"Why is Buttercup sleeping with that Mitchellson kid?" the blonde Ruff questions, looking at him counterpart, "Isn't Butch good enough?"<p>

The girl sighs from the office chair in front of his desk, still completely undressed. She brings her legs up and hugs them to her chest. "Of course, he is," she says, eyeing her topaz-eyed double on his bed, clad in a pair of plain blue boxers, "She's just being stupid."

The boy closes his eyes and leans back against the headboard. "Maybe she loves him."

"Buttercup? My sister Buttercup? Love _Mitch_?" she asks, jaw dropping, "Boomer, I don't know what you're smoking, but it can't be good for you."

"No, not Mitch," he says, rolling his now-open topaz-blue eyes, "Jesus, Bubbles, I know I'm stupid, but I'm not _that_ stupid. I was talking about Butch."

Her face turns completely serious, before she breaks out into a fit of hysterical giggles. "Oh, my god," she exclaims, trying to take in air, "I can't breathe."

"Why not?" he challenges, puffing up his cheeks, "They lost their virginity to one another."

"They _what_?" the youngest Puff almost screeches, her eyes going wide and her jaw-dropping, "They did?!"

"Two years ago," he says, nodding, "Didn't Buttercup tell you guys?"

"She told us she was drunk," says the girl, furrowing her brow as she racks her brain for memories, "And at a party with Mitch. We just kinda assumed it was him."

"She was at a party, but she wasn't drunk," he says, shaking his head, "And she was most certainly _not_ with Mitch."

"Why didn't she tell us?" the sapphire-eyed girl questions, "We're her sisters! We were made from the same chemicals! In the same container!"

"If it makes you feel any better, Butch didn't tell us either," he admits, shrugging his shoulders, "Brick kinda found out when he was asking him about where he was the next day. His power does some crazy stuff. Anyway, he punished Butch pretty bad."

"Punished him how?" the Puff asks, now curious.

"Remember when Butch looked really beat up for a while and couldn't fight against you guys?"

Her mind travels back to her memories of seeing the ebony-haired male looking like he was hit by a train. "That was _Brick_?" she asks in shock, disbelief, and a little disgust, "What did he do to him?!"

"Broke a few of his bones, roughed him up pretty bad, stuff like that," the Ruff says, like it's nothing, "He let the X fix up Butch's bones, but once those were healed, Brick made Mojo give him some antidote so he'd have to heal like a human." At the look on his counter-part's face, he feels sympathetic. "Look, Bubbles, Brick's tough on us because Mojo's a softie. He only gets like that when we _really_ deserve it," he explains, "Let's face it: Butch _really_ deserved it."

"I guess," she says, reluctantly agreeing, "But it seems kinda brutal."

"That's because it _was_ brutal," he says, not denying, "But Butch deserved it. He wouldn't learn any other way."

"Back to the point at hand," she says, quickly trying to get off the topic, "The possibility of Buttercup loving Butch has about the same possibility as you loving me."

He shrugs one last time before turning on his side to take a nap, his back facing her. "Then it's possible."

* * *

><p>The emerald-eyed girl floats around her best friend's kitchen, clad in an over-sized white t-shirt and a pair of plain dark grey boxers. Her senses pick up on another presence in the room and she smiles to herself. "Don't you have any real food in this kitchen at all?"<p>

"I wouldn't know," says a voice she doesn't expect, "I don't live here."

Her back goes rigid at his eerie aloofness and she sharpens her senses. "How the fuck did you get in here?" she asks swiftly, not raising her voice.

"The bathroom window was open," he responds, and even with her back turned, she can see him leaning casually against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Lovely," she sneers, now turning to face him, "So either tell me what the fuck you want or get the fuck out of here."

"What I want?" he mocks, almost twitching in rage, "I'll tell you what the fuck I want, Buttercup. I want to know why you're with a fucking _human_."

"'With'?" she echoes, raising an eyebrow, "I'm not 'with' anybody, human or not."

"Oh, let me correct myself," he says, his voice oozing impatient sarcasm, "Why are you _sleeping _with a human?"

She feigns deep thought in mock-contemplation. "I don't want a lousy fuck."

* * *

><p>The brown-haired male growls in frustration as he hears the doorbell ring. He looks at the door, then down at the ebony-haired girl beneath him wearing only her plain black bra and a pair of jeans.<p>

The emerald-eyed girl sighs and reaches for her shirt on the floor. "Go get the door," she sighs, slipping it on.

"Fucking door," he mumbles, not even bothering to put on a shirt as he answers it, "Yes?"

"I'm here for Buttercup," comes the unmistakable voice of her blonde sister's counter-part, "I have a message from her sisters."

"Right here," she calls, walking over to the door, "What do you need, Boomer?"

The topaz-eyed boy reaches into his back pocket as the obsidian-eyed boy walks back to the couch. His resemblance to her sister is striking, almost sickening, as he gives her a sheepish smile, the same one she's seen on the blue Puff. "Here it is," he says, handing her a note and turning to fly off, "See you around." He takes off, leaving a streak of navy blue in the sky.

She reads the note as she closes the door and crushes the slip of paper in her hand. "Mitch," she begins, attempting to take deep, calming breaths, "I'm going home tonight. The Ruffs will be over, and all seven of us will have dinner."

"Seven?" he echoes, obviously confused, "But there's three of you and three of them…" His voice trails off as realization dawns on him. "No," he says, shaking his head firmly, "No, they can't be serious. Your _twin_ is going to be there!"

"He's _not_ my twin," she comments, obviously offended, "He's my counter-part."

"Same thing," he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest like a child, "I don't wanna go."

"C'mon, Mitch," she whines, getting on her knees in front of him, "For me?" Her hands crawl up his thighs and undo his belt buckle.

He smirks. "I'll need a little convincing."

* * *

><p>The green Puff and her friend walk into the Utonium household, the other two sisters shuffling about in the kitchen and the three Ruffs watching television in the living room.<p>

"Buttercup!" exclaims the blonde sister, poking her head in from the kitchen, "You made it!"

"Of course I made it," says the green Puff, rolling her eyes, "I live here."

"Could've fooled me," scoffs the jade-eyed Ruff, earning a smack on the head from his leader.

Awkward silence envelopes the room as the brown-haired boy and the middle Ruff engage in a staring contest. The black-haired girl feels as though she's in between the crossfire, showing her awkwardness by joining her friend in glaring at her counter-part.

The red Puff steps out of the kitchen, her eyes already impatient and disappointed. "Nice of you and Mitch to join us, Buttercup," she says, obviously not impressed by their glaring competition.

"You didn't really give me much of a choice," she snaps back, her glare now directed at her sister, "But thanks for being so gracious."

"Now's not the time for your sarcasm," hisses the auburn-haired girl, her ruby-red eyes turning into slits, "I just wanted to have a nice dinner with my sisters and our new… Allies."

"Down, Red," smirks Brick, getting up from his seat on the couch, "You're the one causing tension."

"I'm _reducing_ the tension!" she snaps at her counter-part, "Everyone to the table!"

With no desire to fight with the lead Puff, the seven attempt to enjoy a dinner of roast beef, mashed potatoes, peas, and corn.

The emerald-eyed girl feels jade-colored eyes bore into her, the heat of the gaze making her imagine the thought of her flesh melting right off her bones. She feels itchy almost, but not quite, as she suddenly becomes very conscious of whom she's having dinner with.

Blossom, at the head of the table, takes a sip of her water. "So, Mitch," she begins, casually, "It has come to my attention that you and Buttercup are sleeping together again."

The male in question shifts in his seat, feeling very much like he's being interrogated by their deceased father and not the eldest sister, but he nods none-the-less. "Yes, we are."

"And as you know," the leader continues, watching his reactions, "She doesn't love you."

He visibly flinches at the frigidness of her words, regardless of the fact that he already knew, but says nothing in return.

"We'd like for you two to discontinue your relationship," the red-haired Ruff says, finding his chance to get to the point.

Buttercup drops her fork. "What?" she asks, looking at her sisters, "Who's 'we'?"

"Brick, Boomer, Bubbles, Butch and I," responds Blossom, daring the middle sister and her friend to challenge her, "Think about what the press will say, Buttercup. We have a reputation to uphold."

"And screwing around with a Ruff would sound better for publicity?" counters the ebony-haired girl, "You're kidding!"

"You _heard_ the man at the press conference, Buttercup," hisses the ruby-eyed girl, "We're not even _human._ It's disgusting."

Silence envelopes the table, the tension in the air almost thick enough to choke on.

"What?" the green Puff finally gets out, shock glazing over her eyes.

Blossom sighs. "It's _cross-breeding_."

* * *

><p>She screams in frustration and rage, destroying the level 16 training simulation monsters advancing on her. She grabs one, mercilessly wringing its neck in her hands. The monster's body gives one last twitch before she turns its head all the way around, the sickening crack making shivers run up and down her spine. She pulls it apart, and the smell of blood almost seems real.<p>

"Do you see this, Mitch?" asks Blossom, looking at the brown-haired boy, "See what she can do? You could be one of those monsters. One accident and you're finished."

He remains silent, watching his friend as she continues ripping through tides of simulations.

"Crank it up, Bubbles!" she calls, smirking as she takes down another wave of monsters, "This is way too easy!" Virtual blood lands on her face and her eyes go wild with bloodlust.

The blonde sister freezes in the control room, her eyes wide at her sister's thirst for blood.

"I think she's had enough," the youngest Ruff says, "Should we cut her off?"

"Don't," says the green Ruff, licking his lips at the sight of her covered in blood, "Keep it going." He watches Buttercup tear through another wave of monsters, her knuckles tearing open at the scales of the simulations. His pupils dilate and his body twitches, a surge of euphoria running through him at the familiarity of the adrenaline he sees in her. "By all means, keep it going."

Brick eyes his brother oddly, his body tensing as he watches Butch's hands twitch.

"Level 23, Bubbles," the ruby-eyed Puff orders, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What?" the blonde replies, shocked, "She hasn't even gotten past 19. That's a whole four-level jump!"

"Do it," Blossom says, still watching Buttercup, "She'll be fine."

The blonde nods, still a bit doubtful. "Rising to level 23," she says into the mic, "Be careful, Buttercup."

A genuine smile makes its way onto the green Puffs face as a giant phoenix erupts from the ground of the virtual world, the great bird's beak opening to let out a breath of fire.

Immediately, she flies to it head-on, only to be pushed back by the force of its flapping wings.

She crashes into a building, the virtual glass shatters and she skids to a stop on carpet, the tattered shirt unable to protect her back from carpet burn. She loves how it all feels so real.

She flies out of the window just in time to see the bird flap its wings a second time to create razor-like winds. She barely gets far away enough on time, gaining a cut on her cheek. Blood flows down to the corner of her mouth, her tongue darting out to taste it on instinct.

Its taste awakens something inside her, something primal, that causes her body to twitch, much like her counter-part.

He watches her inside the control room, his eyes glazed over with something akin to lust, as he breathes raggedly, twitching with excitement.

The others in the control room notice the similarity but say nothing.

"Oh, yes," Buttercup groans, blood-thirsty anxiety making its way into her veins, "Oh, _yes_."


	4. Almost but Not Quite

**Author's Note:** Here it is! The not-so awaited chapter 4 of More and damn are you guys in for a treat! :D Enjoy~

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot and a teddy bear :3

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

**Almost but Not Quite**

"Buttercup!" yells the leader, banging on the green Puff's door with only enough strength to make it shake, "You have to get ready now! We're gonna be late!"

"Will you please calm down?" yells her counter-part, exiting her room as he puts on his signature red cap, "It's only school."

"Go wake up your brother," she orders him, narrowing her eyes and Buttercup and Mitch come out fully dresses, "Finally!"

"The blondes?" the green one asks, yawning.

"In the kitchen," says the garnet-eyed boy, "They're waiting for us with Butch."

She narrows her eyes at him defensively. "Did you stay over last night, too?"

He nods. "I slept in Blossom's room because Butch took the couch," he says, shrugging, "I didn't wanna intrude by sleeping in the professor's room, either."

She stares at her sister in disbelief. "He stayed in your _room_?!" she yells, obviously upset, "Why don't you guys, oh I don't know, _go home_?"

"He was on the floor, Buttercup," she replies, her eyes narrowing back, "We were nowhere near each other."

"Are we leaving now or not?" asks the green Ruff, floating up the stairs and noticing Mitch, "Oh, the human's here. That's why everything's so slow today."

"Like that's my fault," the obsidian-eyed boy retaliates, "You're slow every day."

"Fuck off," the Ruff snarls, clenching his fist, "I'll kick your ass, you little shit."

"Watch your language," the red Puff snaps, making the sign of the cross, "_Our father, who art in heaven…_"

"You are _not _my leader," he growls at the praying girl, his temper rising.

The red Ruff stands before him, his eyes cold and threatening. "Stand down, Butch. Now."

And just like that, the jade-eyed boy is calmer, still angry, but not bloodthirsty. "Can we just leave now? I feel like I'm itching in my own skin."

* * *

><p>There's a terrifying silence as the seven teens walk through the halls of the high school, girls and boys alike watching them in quiet awe. The obsidian-eyed boy suddenly feels like he doesn't belong, like he's walking with celebrities.<p>

"Ignore them," his friend says, noticing his discomfort.

A freshman girl suddenly drops her books in front of them while scurrying across the hall, and rushes to her knees to pick everything up. The green Ruff gets down to help her, taking all her things. "I'll walk you to class," he says, winking at her, "Unless you want me to fly you."

She nods dumbly and he picks her up bridal style, still staying close to the floor as to not scare her. He floats off, leaving the others behind.

* * *

><p>By the middle of the day, the chaos calms, leaving only as much peace as could happen on the first day of a new school year.<p>

Quickly, the Boys are accepted and fawned over by the female population, much like the Girls are with the male population.

Scanning the cafeteria with their trays of food in their hands, the Ruffs automatically find their counter-parts, surprised to not see them together. Blossom is surrounded by girls at one table, her huge bow and long auburn-hair still noticeable amongst the sea of people. Bubbles is sitting on the floor, surrounded by a group of boys and girls, all of them with sketchbooks and various drawing utensils in their laps. Buttercup is surrounded by a small group of boys, one of them being Mitch.

"See ya," Butch says, making his way over to the table with his counter-part. He ignores the calls of the girls at the other tables, instead taking a seat next to a brown-eyed boy smelling of glue. "Hey. I'm Butch."

"Hey," the boy responds, moving over to make room for the Ruff, "I'm Elmer. Elmer Sglue." The girl and her brown-haired friend ignore him, despite being the ones that know him personally.

"I'm Floyd and this is my twin brother Lloyd," says another boy, introducing his twin brother, "That's Harry."

"Cool," Butch replies, nodding his head as he looks around the cafeteria, "How's the food chain in this part of town?"

Harry turns his head in confusion. "You mean like, girls and guys?"

"I'm only looking for the chicks, but if you want to throw down the dudes too, then that's fine with me," the Ruff replies, messing with the poor boy, "I just wanna know who my latest conquest will be."

"You're disgusting," the green Puff says, finally acknowledging him.

"It's not like I'm gonna do anything with them," he says, defending himself, "I'm stuck with you, remember?"

"Fuck you," she replies, finishing off her water bottle and scowling at her counter-part.

"When it comes to the cream of the crop, it's you and your brothers, man," Lloyd says, as if it should be obvious, "You've got powers, you used to be super villains, and chicks usually did the 'bad boy' type thing anyway."

"And after us?" he asks, feeling his head swell slightly.

"Mitch," the other twin replies, jerking his head at the boy next to the Puff, "All the girls want a chance to take something from the PowerPuff Girls, and what better way to piss off Buttercup than to take her best friend?"

"Good point," he nods, seeing its logic even though he wrinkles his nose in disgust, "And the chicks?"

"Your guys' twins are all tied for first," Elmer replies, taking a bite of his sandwich, "Nobody can really choose with one they like best."

"We're _not_ twins," snaps Buttercup, crossing her arms childishly.

"They are?" asks Butch, obviously surprised, "I don't get it."

"What's there not to get, man?" asks Harry, looking at him like he's stupid, "They're like, celebrities. Every ad is masturbation material until a new one comes out."

"Really, Harry?" she asks, throwing a few French fries at his face, "That's disgusting."

"Oh, come on, BC," he replies, eating them out of his lap, "It's not like you didn't know. Your ads are like heaven for hormonal teenage boys."

"Even that shoe ad you guys did," swoons Lloyd, putting a hand on his heart, "I couldn't even see your tits in that one and I almost had a heart attack."

"And what about those dresses you guys had to model in Germany?" Floyd adds, taking the pictures out of backpack, "There was so much cleavage I thought I would die."

Butch looks over, studying her. "She looks flat."

A blush rushes to her face as she goes backs to crossing her arms. "I'm wearing a sweater," she says, defending herself and her assets, "Excuse me if I don't wanna be ogled."

"You fight crime in a mini-skirt and a low cut tank top," says Mitch, rolling his eyes as he tosses his apple around. "You're going to be ogled. And you're going to be ogled a lot more than your sisters."

"Your chest, at least," adds Elmer, shrugging, "Blossom's got the ass going for her and Bubbles wins the face category."

"I'd rather not listen to you guys dissect my sisters and I with your hormones," she says, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"You know, the only reason Mitch hasn't jumped in is because he's already banging you," says Floyd, taking a sip from his soda can, "He's the same as us."

She sighs. "You're all such gentlemen."

* * *

><p>The blue and red Ruff watch their brother walk away, his tray in hand. Boomer shuffles on his feet awkwardly, mentally debating on whether or not to sit with his counter-part. Deciding he wants to, he turns to his brother. "Later, Brick," he says, turning around and walking away.<p>

His counter-part is concentrated on her sketch, which looks like the girl with curly brown hair seated right across from her. He nudges her side gently with his foot, shocking her out of concentration.

"Hey," she says, looking up at him in surprise.

Her friends look at him too, their shocked faces and slacked jaws making him uncomfortable.

"Hi," he replies, looking at her, and then at everyone else, "Can I sit here?"

"Sure," the brown-haired girl that the blue Puff was drawing says, "We don't mind."

"Thanks," he says, taking a seat next to Bubbles, "Do all of you guys draw each other or something?"

"Yeah," one boy with dirty blonde hair replies, "We always do this the first day of school. Do you draw?"

"Boomer's a painter," Bubbles answers instead, "You should see his ceiling."

"So, how'd you get into painting, Boomer?" asks a boy sitting on the other side of Boomer, "Learn it in prison or something?"

"Kyle!" Bubbles snaps, looking at the brown-skinned boy next to her, "That was rude!"

"It's okay, Bubs," Boomer interrupts, an almost sad smile on his face, "I don't mind at all. I didn't learn it in prison, actually. Mojo wanted us to be cultured, so we all had to pick something up." The brown-skinned boy flushes, obviously not expecting an honest answer. "I took up painting. Brick decided to take up writing and Butch is one hell of a musician."

"That's interesting," his sapphire-eyed counter-part says, smiling, "Blossom writes poetry and Buttercup is a musician too."

"See what I mean?" he asks, taking a bite out of his apple, "We're all made for each other."

* * *

><p>As soon as his blonde brother leaves, the red Ruff wastes no time in walking over to the table with his own counter-part, mimicking his brothers. "Hey, Red," he whispers in her ear, getting much too close to her.<p>

She almost jumps at his close proximity, feeling extremely conscious of herself. "What do you want, Brick?"

"You know what I want," he says, smirking at her and looking up and down her body purposefully. He makes it a show, letting everyone see him gaze at her.

Her friends blush, their eyes going wide with shock. Blossom narrows her eyes as he sits next to her, their arms touching. Her back goes rigid, obviously uncomfortable, as his smirk grows wider.

"My name's Brick," he says, looking at the girls at the table, "Blossom's… _partner_."

She hates the way he says her name, and she hates what he refers to himself as. Instead, she ignores him, staying completely quiet and staring at the table with eyes so cold she could freeze over Hell.

"I'm Robin," says an average-looking girl with blue eyes and light-brown hair.

"Krista," says a girl with black hair and a distinctly Chinese accent.

"I'm Sam." This girl is no doubt a Native with her red-brown skin and warm dark eyes.

"Cool," he says, nodding his head nonchalantly and turning to his ruby-eyed counter-part, "Why are you so gloomy, darling?" She hates the mocking tone of his voice as he moves his hand to her sock covered knee and moves her skirt up to trail his fingers along her thigh.

Immediately, eye beams shoot out of her eyes and hit the back of his hand, a lurching feeling in her gut making her want to vomit at his touch.

He brings his hand out from under the table, two circular burn marks spilling a bit of blood from the areas where the skin burned off. He looks at it, obviously amused, as her friends stare at her in shock.

"Looks like the Ice Princess has got a temper," he says, bringing his hand up to his lips and lapping the blood to stop its bleeding, "Wonderful." The X in his blood heals it a few minutes later, but it still discomforts him.

He looks up just in time to see the green Puff walk over to her counter-part and punch him right across the jaw, its sickening crack audible throughout the cafeteria ensuring that it's broken once again, and stomping away angrily.

Her sisters automatically shoot up and follow her, both shooting dirty glares to the jade-eyed Ruff.

"Nice ass, Blossom!" he calls, still somehow able to talk.

* * *

><p>The red-haired Ruff walks through the halls of the school, making his way around the school for some peace and quiet to continue writing his novel, only to hear a symphony he believes to be by Bach coming from the auditorium. The sound is quiet, like it's supposed to be a secret, but he senses no one there other than the one playing it.<p>

He follows his supersonic hearing to its source, surprised to find the door slightly open, and peeks inside, wondering who it could possibly be. Walking around campus for two weeks after school to write a novel means he's used to seeing people around, just not inside.

To his surprise, he sees Buttercup, her emerald-green eyes closed as her hands glide along the keys, fast and fluid movement almost unnoticeable until the sounds are heard.

She stops suddenly, not even finishing the song or opening her eyes, before starting a new one.

It's not by an old composer, he notices, but something newer, probably by some band she listens to. She's shaky now and takes a deep breath.

_Stay low,  
>Soft, dark and dreamless<br>Far beneath my nightmares and loneliness  
>I hate me<br>For breathing without you_

His breath catches in his throat at the song, at her voice. 'For the professor?' he thinks. He can't be too sure. She has too many secrets.

_I don't want to feel anymore  
>For you<em>

He feels strange watching her, listening to her, almost like a stalker. But he can't interrupt a moment like this. She's vulnerable, almost weak, and he can't turn away.

_Grieving for you  
>I'm not grieving for you<em>

_Nothing real love can't undo_

He almost wishes she was Blossom and not Buttercup. Blossom is the one he wants to watch. Not this one.

_And though I may have lost my way_

_All paths lead straight you_

Suddenly, she stops playing as she hears a door behind her creak open. A hand is placed on her shoulder and she relaxes at the familiar touch.

"It's okay, Buttercup," the obsidian-eyed boy says. He leans down to kiss her and she pulls him tighter, desperate for someone to touch.

The red Ruff at the door turns around to leave, realizing it's not his place to interrupt.

She'd end up with Butch anyway.

* * *

><p>The green Ruff decides to skip class, regardless of it being only the third week of school. He floats through the halls, looking for somewhere to hide. He opens a door to his right, only to find a girl with curly orange-red hair and bright forest-green eyes puffing on something that looks strangely like a joint.<p>

"Whoa," he says, his eyes going wide at the sight of her.

"Hey," she replies, her eyes drooping with a lazy smile on her face, "Close the door or it'll all get out."

He walks inside, closing the door behind him as he was told. "I'm Butch," he says.

"Selene," she says, nodding at him in recognition, "You look like you could use a good rush, man."

He nods his head, inhaling the smoke around him. "I really could."

"Cool," she says, taking another hit, "You want some?"

"Sure," he replies, taking it from her and inhaling its smoke before accidentally coughing it out, "Do you do this often?"

She laughs. "Sure," she says, nodding her head, "I used to do it with my girlfriend all the time."

"Girlfriend?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, "You're a lesbian?"

"Yeah," she says, nodding her head again, "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not disappointed at all," he says, taking another it, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling, "I'm kinda committed."

"Nice," she says, leaning her back against the wall behind her, "My girlfriend was committed too. To the city."

"The city?" he asks, somehow mustering enough attention to raise an eyebrow, "Was she a cop or something?"

"Or something," Selene answers, inhaling the smoke around her deeply, "She's a PowerPuff Girl."

His jaw drops. "You dated a PowerPuff?" he asks, emerald green eyes wide, "Which one?"

"Buttercup," she replies, closing her eyes and smiling fondly, "Our break up was a mutual agreement, though. I needed her, but the city needed her more."

"Were you her only girlfriend?" he asks her, now curious.

"Yeah," she replies, nodding her head, "But don't get confused. I was her only girlfriend. Not her only girl."

"Twisted," he says, shaking his head in disbelief, "You're like, really cool."

"Thanks," she says, nodding her head just in time for the bell to sound, "Now it's time to get the fuck out of here before someone smells this shit."

* * *

><p>"I wonder how much they miss him," the garnet-eyed boy brings up casually from his seat on the sofa.<p>

"The professor?" the blue Ruff asks, looking at his older brother, "It's been a little over a year and a half, hasn't it?"

Brick nods, his brothers falling into silence as he takes his hat off in respect. "She talks about him in her sleep," he tells them, shaking his head, "Blossom, I mean."

"I thought you weren't banging her," says Butch, looking at the leader strangely.

"I'm not, dumbass," he replies, rolling his eyes, "I sleep on the floor, remember?"

His brothers snicker. He glares. "Shut up, Butch. At least I'm even in the same room as her."

"Are you sure we're supposed to be this way?" asks the blue Ruff, suddenly speaking, "I mean, together and not enemies? What if we're just fucking things up? We were created to destroy them."

"It is exactly that reason that you cannot destroy them," says Mojo Jojo, appearing at the door.

"What do you mean, pops?" asks Butch, raising an eyebrow, "I know there was like, made-for-you shit, but made-to-destroy-you shit? That's a different level of fucked up."

"They are the exact same reasoning, my son," the monkey responds, his voice growing haggard with age, "If you are to destroy them, you destroy your reason to exist. With no reason to exist, you stop wanting to exist."

"Those girls are us, Boomer," says the red Ruff, nodding, "Two sides of the same coin, puzzle pieces, yin and yang, whatever the fuck you want to call it. Either way, we have to stay together."

"Besides," Butch throws in, looking at his topaz-eyed brother pointedly, "You can't tell us you regret screwing the blue one."

* * *

><p>She narrows her eyes and clenches her fists in fury at the boy floating above her. "Give it back," she orders, murderous rage coming off her in waves, "I swear, I'll fucking kill you if you don't give it back."<p>

The green Ruff smirks at her arrogantly, clasping the small, silver oval-shaped locket around his neck. "Why in the hell would I give it back to you?" he asks, taunting her, "It looks so much better on me."

"It's _mine_, you fucking ass!" she growls, frustrated. Adrenaline shoots into her veins and she pushes it back, despite her love of the battle. This is not the place to lose control.

Sensing her excitement, her counter-part begins to twitch excitedly, his grin growing feral and out of control. "Come get me, baby."

A sick, twisted sense of pleasure travels into her body as she charges towards him and hits him square in the chest, literally knocking the wind out of his lungs. She feels at peace as he soars through the air, eventually crash landing into the wall of the gym and making a deep crater. She smiles to herself, heroism be damned, and wishes, just this one time, that he's actually dead.

She charges toward him, her fist at the ready with an energy orb the size of a dodge ball when he flies right at her, waiting for what seems to be the last millisecond to dodge her attack and kick her in the back, sending her straight into the wood-paneled floor, face first. She sits up, spits the blood out of her mouth, and smiles. "Keep it coming, Butchie!" she calls, catching him in the jaw as she flies up with lightning speed.

Flashes of light and dark green clash in the air, so perfectly matched there could be no real winner.

She tackles him onto the floor after he lands a hit to her stomach, the pain almost making her vomit.

They create a crater beneath them, rubble and debris flying everywhere in sight.

"What the fuck did I do to you?!" she screams, painfully frustrated as he twitches in excitement under her, "Why won't you just leave me the fuck alone?!" She slams her fists into his face and his chest, with energy orbs and without, losing the control that she fought so hard to keep.

His face is broken and bloody, almost unrecognizable by the force of her pounding fists. But she can tell he's still alive. She can feel his heart beating, the excitement still fresh in his blood as he snarls and growls at her, even spits blood into her mouth.

He breaks out of her grip and grabs her head, slamming it onto the rubble with the force strong enough to almost kill even her. He flies up, twitching as he does so, and looks around the thick dust to find her. He thinks he hears the door of the gym open and yells of "Butch!" and "Buttercup!" but he can't really be too sure.

Suddenly, two bright red eyebeams shoot up from below him, barely missing as it hits a lamp shade and shoots in an unknown direction, its destination point unpredictable until a high-pitched scream pierces the air.

The smoke clears up and he can see the scene clearly.

The blue Puff is on her knees, and even from the air, he can see a pale, film-like color covering the irises of her sapphire-blue eyes and the blood spilling out of them.

She's _blind_.


	5. Pull the Plug

**Author's Note: **Here is the not-so awaited chapter five! I don't really know what to say about this chapter other than Brick and Buttercup are kinda cute. I don't ship them but they definitely have potential. :3 Anyway, chapter six is underway if anyone still cares and I'm still writing and yeah. :3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything you recognize, primarily the Puffs and Ruffs and all that jazz. This is completely non-profit, ya-da ya-da ya-da. Enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

**Pull the Plug**

The emerald-eyed Puff immediately runs to her sister, the fight out of her body as worry consumes every inch of her. "Bubbles," she says, reaching her hand out, "I'm so sorry."

The youngest Ruff grabs her wrist and pushes it away, glaring at her as he wraps his arms around his whimpering counter-part. "Get away from her!"

"What the fuck is your problem?!" she yells, obviously angry.

"Buttercup!" the lead Puff hisses, not caught up in prayer after a curse, "You just blinded your sister. Now is not the time for you to lose control. _Again._"

She registers the accusation in her sister's voice before she hears it. _You shouldn't have lost control in the first place._

"I need to heal her," she says quietly, and at the sound of being healed by the green Puff, Bubbles almost shrieks.

"Bubbles," Blossom says gently, though not looking at her, "It was an accident. Let Buttercup heal you."

The blonde girl hears the authority in her sister's voice and almost flinchingly nods without saying a word. her counter-part, however, just stares at Blossom in shock. How could she be so cruel to her own sister?

The ebony-haired Puff moves forward, her head down as the topaz-eyed Ruff now watches her, his gaze accusing her. She places her hands on her sister's eyes and they begin to glow a bright white.

Bubbles feels a pulling pressure at her eyeballs, making her feel like they'll explode. Being healed by Buttercup has never been a particularly pleasant experience, but she realizes it's more convenient than letting her newly-acquired blindness heal on its own.

She's as good as new when it's over, but she still shies away from Buttercup, her now-sapphire eyes downcast.

"You will heal Butch," the red Puff orders, when her counter-part stops him.

"No need," he says, garnet-colored eyes clouded with unrestrained fury, "Not before what I'm about to do to him." He walks over to his still-injured brother, standing right in front of him before striking him across the face. "They are not our enemies, you idiot. What the fuck were you thinking?" He kicks the jade-eyed boy in the stomach, more ribs cracking under the force of his foot before landing one last kick to his shins. "Boomer."

"Yes, Brick?" he replies, looking up.

"Did you fly home and get what I ordered you to get?" he asks, not even turning.

The youngest Ruff nods and walks over to both of his brothers, handing the red Ruff a syringe.

"What is that?" Blossom asks, eyes wide at the possibilities, "Brick, isn't that a bit much?"

"How I handle my team is none of your concern," he snaps, injecting the syringe into the middle brother's neck, "As far as I'm concerned, you don't even know what it is." He looks down at his brother's broken body on the floor, shaking his head in disapproval. "It's only Antidote X. When he gets out of control, this is his punishment. He's got to heal like a human for a while."

"You stop him from healing?" the lead Puff asks, shocked, "Brick, that's brutal. It takes away all his powers."

"Are you going to take responsibility if he kills a civilian?" the red-haired Ruff challenges, looking at his counter-part, "You three are fine. You're heroes. But us? The second Townsville sees something they don't like, we're screwed. What are you going to do if someone other than you three gets seriously injured by him? I'm trying to _protect_ my brother, Blossom, not hurt him."

She's stunned into silence, her ruby-red eyes wide, as she watches him haul his brother onto his shoulder.

"The principal wanted us, right?" he calls over his shoulder, "Hurry up."

* * *

><p>They sit in the principal's office quietly, waiting for the verdict, after the explanation of the state of the gym.<p>

"We could expel both of them for the destruction of school property," she says, shaking her head in what seems to be disappointment, "PowerPuff Girl or not, Buttercup fought Butch, another student regardless of his status as a RowdyRuff Boy, and tore the gym to shreds. Butch, on the other hand, instigated the attack."

"Please, Principal Keane," says Blossom, looking at her old kindergarten teacher, "It won't happen again."

"I genuinely apologize for my brother, and were he conscious, I'm almost sure he'd apologize himself," Brick says, massaging his own shoulder after ungracefully dumping Butch's unmoving body in a chair, "He's undergoing his punishment at this very moment."

"And Buttercup will be receiving the same punishment," adds Blossom, looking her old kindergarten teacher in the eye. Her garnet-eyed counterpart looks at her in shock before shaking his head in exhaustion.

"What?" the middle Puff screeches, eyes widening, "That's not fair!"

"You blinded your sister, destroyed a school building, attacked your ally and _lost control_, Buttercup," snaps the leader, her ruby-red eyes hardening, "You have no say in your punishment."

"And what exactly is this punishment?" asks the principal, worry in her eyes, "Nothing too extreme I hope."

"She and Butch are getting their powers taken away for the next week," responds the leader of the Ruffs, placing a hand on the auburn-haired girl's shoulder to calm her down.

"Buttercup's powers are being taken for _two_ weeks," says Blossom, turning away from her sister with a cold glance of disapproval as she shrugs his hand off of her, "And she will be placed on house arrest, with no access to the lab."

The emerald-eyed girl's eyes widen at her sister's harshness, when she remembers the shrill scream of the youngest Puff, sitting rigidly next to her. Realizing she deserves the punishment, she holds her tongue, instead taking deep breaths.

"The same goes for Butch then, I guess," says Brick, nodding his head, "But he'll be staying at the Utonium house because Mojo could give in and give him his powers back early. We might as well let him and Buttercup bond while they're still harmless."

"I guess I can call it an out-of-school suspension," sighs Principal Keane, furrowing her brow, "Are you sure you're both okay giving this type of punishment to your siblings?"

"I will not risk another incident from my team," says Blossom, her authority reaching even the middle-aged woman's ears, "If that means stripping my own sister of her powers, then so be it."

"Very well, then," she replies, nodding her head and shuffling papers together, "You two know your teams better than I do. You're dismissed."

* * *

><p>'Stupid fucking not having powers,' she thinks, sighing and putting down her guitar, 'I'm hungry.'<p>

She walks out of her lime green and black room and turns to make her way down the stairs and into the kitchen. There, she spots her spiky-haired counterpart, rummaging through the fridge in search of food, still wearing the cast on his arm and bandages around his head.

She flinches, her hand subconsciously making its way to the bandage on her cheek as she becomes more aware of the ache in her limbs. "Hey," she says, before she can stop herself, "What's up?"

"Hey," he replies, looking up from his search with a slice of ham hanging out of his mouth. "Wahha mek sah foo?"

She looks at him strangely before he rolls his jade-green eyes and holds up a recipe book. She shrugs, realizing cooking with him would be better than starving. And she had to apologize to her sisters anyway. "Do you even know how to cook?" she asks, watching him carefully as he puts down the large book and gobbles down his ham.

"Yes, I know how to cook," he replies, rolling his eyes again, "We didn't exactly have anyone to cook for us growing up." He opens the book and goes through the pages, barely skimming. "Stealing food didn't really do us any good either. So we decided to have contests on who was the best cook."

"You won?" she asks, jokingly, leaning across the table to get a better view of the book.

"Yes, I won," he replies, before settling on a recipe he liked, "Found one! What do you think?"

"Lasagna?" she asks, raising an eyebrow, "Do we have everything we need? We can't go out, you know."

"I looked," he says, nodding, "Your kitchen is like having a small grocery store." He makes his way over to the fridge, pulling out ground beef. "Were you guys gonna use this for something?" His response is a shrug, and he continues pulling out ingredients, reaching into the vegetable crisper for a red bell pepper, before grabbing the tub of Ricotta cheese and a package of sliced Mozzarella and a small block of Parmesan cheese.

She smirks to herself and looks at the book to find ingredients she can grab. She makes her way to the pantry and grabs a white onion, the dry lasagna noodles, sugar, a can of tomato sauce, a can of stewed tomatoes, tomato paste, garlic powder, oregano, Italian spice, salt, pepper, garlic salt, garlic cloves, parsley, and white wine vinegar.

"I'll start chopping the vegetables," she says, putting everything in her arms on the counter and pulling out a chopping board and large knife.

"All right," he replies, giving her the red bell pepper. He finds a large pot under the sink, fills it half-way with water, and sets it on the stove top to boil, struggling a bit with his cast. "Make sure you do the onions, garlic, and peppers first. I'll need to cook them up after the beef."

"Affirmative," she answers, quickly dicing the pepper and mincing the garlic. "I dice the onion, right?"

"Yes," he replies, pulling out a large skillet to brown the beef.

She feels strangely at peace here, cooking with him as if they're old friends. Cooking was always such an intimate thing to her. To share it with someone else was something new altogether.

Suddenly, she notices him staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face. "What?" she asks defensively, raising an eyebrow.

"So," he begins, awkwardly, shifting his eyes anywhere but her, "You like blood?" Seeing the disgusted and confused look on her face, he stops the urge to slap himself in the face. "No, not like that," he quickly says, shaking his head, "When you're fighting, I mean."

She frowns slightly and shrugs. "What of it? So do you. You start twitching."

"What do you feel?" he suddenly asks, finally looking at her, "When you see it? Or smell it? Or taste it?"

"I feel…" she begins, slowing her chopping to think a bit, "Not guilty." She resumes chopping at normal pace.

"What do you mean?" he asks, turning back to his cooking.

She sighs and puts on a thoughtful face, "I mean I feel not guilty. I don't feel bad for giving it my all because they're giving it their all. Like, when I kill a monster, I don't feel bad because that monster would kill me too." At his thoughtful face, she shrugs. "There's really no point in fighting when you don't give it your all and hold back, you know?"

Even with him turned around, she can hear the slight tone of offense in his voice. "You held back," he accuses, an obvious frown on his face, "Didn't you? When we fought at school. You held back. Why?"

She shrugs even though he can't see her. "So did you." She continues chopping more before she feels his eyes on her again.

"What is it now?" she asks.

"Nothing," he replies, shaking his head to continue what he's doing before a twisted grin comes onto his face, "You just look totally domestic."

Her eyes narrow.

"Seriously, like a total chick."

Her grip on the knife she's holding tightens.

"I can imagine you in a frilly pink apron—"

He barely dodges the knife that zooms past him and imbeds itself in the wall.

"Shut the fuck up!"

Later that night, Blossom, Brick, Boomer, and Bubbles walk into the Utonium household, surprised to find it smelling like food instead of blood. Their siblings are in the living room, the girl laying on the couch and the boy on the floor in front of her, a bruise on his cheek looking as if he'd been punched by a large man.

"They're asleep," the blonde-haired girl giggles, "How cute."

"It smells like they made some food," says her counter-part, sniffing the air, "I'm gonna go see what it is." He disappears into the kitchen and comes back a few seconds later, a broad smile on his face. "It's lasagna!"

At the sound of his excitement, the emerald-eyed girl and jade-eyed boy wake up, confused about the time and where the hell they are.

"School's over already?" the girl asks, wiping the sleep from her eyes, "We made food."

"We know," the auburn-haired Puff says, nodding her head, "Thank you." She turns and heads into the kitchen. "Come on, Bubbles. Let's set the table."

* * *

><p>The Puffs quietly get ready for their fashion shoot, held in place by their make-up artists as their faces are caked with endless amounts of blush and foundations and eyeshadows.<p>

"This is stupid," murmurs the emerald-eyed sister, almost pouting at the unnatural weight on her eyelids.

"Buttercup," says the auburn-haired sister, struggling a bit as the make-up artist put a dark shade of red lipstick on her moving mouth, "Just because you complain, doesn't mean we can stop doing this. It's for publicity."

"Do we even need any more publicity?" the green Puff asks, exasperatedly.

"Oh, stop being suck a downer, Buttercup," scolds the sapphire-eyed sister, "This is fun."

"Girls," says a woman with a strong, Russian accent, "It is time to go to costumes."

"Ya tak vzvolnovan[1]!" Bubbles cries out, the Russian fluid on her tongue.

"Bubbles," the ruby-eyed sister says, "We can't understand you."

"I'm sorry, girls," she replies back, smiling sheepishly, "I just can't help it! It's so

awesome!"

"Bubbles, this isn't the first shoot we've ever done," says the green sister as they are dressed by several stylists.

"But this is the first one we've ever done with the Boys!"

"Why would that be something to get excited about?" the green puff asks, sneering as they make their way to the dressing rooms for costumes.

They're immediately split up, dragged into their dresses and shoes and countless accessories, before being dragged into the waiting room.

Bubbles snickers at Buttercup's uncomfortable appearance in the skin tight, lace emerald green dress her sister was squeezed into.

"This is itchy," Buttercup whines, carefully picking at her arms, wrapped elbow-length in lace, "And it's too short. I don't wanna do this, Blossom." Her attempts to pull down the hem of the dress prove to be futile as it always moves to barely cover her behind when she moves again. Her heels are strappy and black, but she can keep her balance in them.

"Don't slouch," teases Bubbles, looking comfortable in her blue crocheted mini-dress. There's a small slit on her upper thigh and her usual pigtails have been pulled down for her hair to fall in elegant platinum waves down her back. Her feet are adorned with mustard yellow wedges that almost make Buttercup flinch.

"You'll be fine," says Blossom, rolling her eyes. Her dress is a bright red mid-thigh length lace dress, with lace up to her elbows. On her head is an elegant red and gold headpiece like a crown and gold shoes adorn her feet. "It's only for a few hours."

"I wonder where the boys are," the blonde Puff wonders aloud, looking around before she catches sight of them.

Boomer is dressed almost head to toe in black, save for his navy blue turtle neck. The black jacket looks a bit loose on his lean frame and the slacks are untidily tucked into his black hiking boots. "It's really hot in this," he complains, tugging at the collar to let air into his clothing, "I feel like I'm gonna pass out."

"Stop being a little bitch," snaps Butch, pointedly ignoring Blossom's glare as she makes the sign of the cross to begin her usual after-cussing prayer. "You're not the only one that has to put up with this shit." His usually spiky hair was forced down, grazing about half of his forehead. He's wearing a dark green long sleeve with a single horizontal black stripe going along his chest but disappearing along the lapels of his black blazer and tucked halfway into his slightly sagged black pants.

Brick is quiet as usual, his fiery red hair tied back into a low ponytail with his signature baseball cap nowhere to be seen. He's wearing a maroon sweater with a heavy black coat and slightly loose khakis and dress shoes. His garnet colored eyes are gazing intently at his counter-part, staring at her from head to toe, and goosebumps spring from her skin despite her body not tensing at all. He smirks at her all-knowingly before turning away.

She'd come to him eventually.

* * *

><p>She floats down the hall, looking for somewhere to spend her free period. Suddenly, passing a certain janitor's closet dear to her heart, she catches the all-too familiar scent of marijuana permeate the air and decides to catch up with her old flame.<p>

She opens the door, but instead of seeing fiery red, she catches sight of ebony spikes.

Butch smiles at her goofily. "Hey there, Butterbutt."

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she asks, narrowing her eyes at him as she shuts the door behind her.

"I'm not," he replies, taking another hit and shrugging his shoulders.

"What?"

"I'm not thinking," he replies, looking at her through blood shot jade eyes, "I'm not thinking at all."

She shifts her weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably. She'd never been around him when he was this… pleasant, for lack of a better word. She realizes it's the drugs, but she'll take whatever civility she can get. "Are you gonna share or not?"

He looks surprised before a lazy smile spreads across his face. He pats the spot right next to him, and she decides to sit a whole other foot or two away. He holds the joint out to her, the grass rolled in paper covered in little red strawberries.

She takes a hit, holding it in for a bit before breathing it out, and then taking another one. "Fucking super tolerance," she grumbles as she takes a third.

They sit in silence a while, before "I met Selene."

She looks at him oddly. "You did?"

"Yeah," he nods, looking up at the ceiling, "I didn't know you were a dyke."

She scoffs. "I'm not. Obviously." An uncomfortable silence thickens the milky fog surrounding them. "She was just… I don't know. She's fucking gorgeous. And… She got me."

"More than Mitch did?" he asks, looking at her.

"We weren't on speaking terms then."

"Oh," he says, looking at her intently, "Then… More than I did?"

She knows she should feel angry but she just _doesn't _and she knows herself well-enough to realize that her lack of reaction is because of the pot. "You can't keep bringing this back to us, Butch. Besides, you and I weren't exactly speaking then either."

He leans his head against the wall and closes his eyes.

She wraps her arms around her legs and rests her chin on her knees, curled up into a little ball.

They don't speak anymore.

* * *

><p>"How do you know there's a heaven?"<p>

Her ruby red eyes glare at him icily as she looks up from 'East of Eden' by John Steinbeck. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not trying to be an asshole, Blossom" he says, looking back at her just as coldly from his air mattress on the floor, "It just makes absolutely no sense to me to have so much faith in something you're not sure exists."

"Because this can't be it," she responds, gripping her book tighter, "The Professor… He can't have just… Died. He can't be completely gone. That's how I know there's a heaven. The world can't be that cruel."

He looks at her confused, and she sighs. "I believe in heaven because the Professor doesn't deserve the same fate as criminals and thieves, because that's what it means when you don't believe in heaven. It means Mother Theresa had the same fate as Hitler and I can't believe that."

Suddenly, he understands. Her belief in a god is nothing more than to guarantee herself that the Professor was significant. The prayers after cursing and before and after meals and before bed and after waking up, they're all a way to make sure that whatever possible god is out there knows that the Professor raised them right.

And then he feels guilty. Because he still doesn't believe in a heaven. Because he believes that Hitler and Mother Theresa and the Professor all had the same fate.

He wishes he never asked her at all.

* * *

><p>The Gala involving the Girls and the former villains of Townsville was a glamorous, though heavy guarded affair.<p>

The Puffs and Ruff are seated at the host table right in front of the room, facing out onto the sea of familiar but not all entirely welcomed faces. In between the two leaders in the middle of the table is the Mayor, pleasant as ever.

"You know, Blossom," he begins, his snow white mustache wiggling like a caterpillar upon his upper lip, "You and the girls should spend time going around with the Boys and socializing."

From the other side of the leader, Buttercup cranes her neck over to look dryly at the small aging man. "You're kidding, right?"

He continues to smile at them pleasantly, and Bubbles is the first to sigh and put her fork and knife down. She stands, adjusts her baby blue knee length dress, and walks over to the Boys' side of the table. "Let's go, Butch."

"What?" he asks, looking up at her.

"What?" Boomer echoes, looking at Butch.

The youngest Puff merely waves away the look she receives from her counterpart. "You and I spend a lot of time together." And with that, she whisks away the jade-eyed brother, leading him to the Gangreene Gang's table.

"She means she's bored of you," Brick tells him, not looking up from his food.

"Shut up," the blonde boy snaps before wiping his mouth on his cloth napkin, "Let's go, Blossom."

"Excuse me?" she gasps, looking at him appalled.

"Would you rather be stuck with Brick?"

She gives in a little too quickly and the two head over into the crowd.

"And then there were two," mutters the ebony haired girl to herself, rolling her eyes.

She watches the lead Ruff stand and straighten his suit jacket and tie before striding over to her and offering his arm. "Shall we?"

She eyes him before downing all the water in her glass and locking her arm in his. "Oh, what the fuck."

They saunter over to a random table and Buttercup sees Mitch stand from the table he was seated at and walk over to them.

"Why did you drag me here again?" he asks, tugging at the neck of his dress shirt.

And before she can answer, she hears a shrill "Well, well, well."

Mitch groans loudly before turning around to look at the curly haired girl in front of them.

"Hello there, Buttercup," she practically sneers, eyeing the Puff distastefully, "Where are the other PowerSlut Girls?"

"That's original," says Brick, rolling his garnet colored eyes, "I didn't realize we were still in middle school."

"You didn't go to middle school," Buttercup reminds him.

"Shut up," he snaps, "Do you want my help or not?"

The emerald-eyed girl has to stop herself from laughing or smiling because if she really thinks about it, he's probably her favorite out of the brothers. He doesn't talk much, he's sarcastic, he's kinda pretty—

"What's going on?"

Butch and Bubbles have made their way over, arms no longer locked. "Long time no see, Princess," he states, looking over her form a few times and winking, "Miss me?"

"Ew," Bubbles squeals, standing closer to her sister.

"Afraid not, Butchie," she replies, smirking at him, "I'm enjoying a single life after cutting ties with my most recent toy."

Mitch visibly tenses. "Listen here, you bitch—"

"Excuse me, what did you call me?"

"Goddammit, Princess, this is _exactly _why we broke up!"

"We broke up because the sex wasn't worth the shit relationship!"

"Well excuse the fuck outta me if my idea of a relationship wasn't shopping all the time and—"

"Should we go?" asks Buttercup, turning to Brick as she notices her older sister's head spin to pinpoint the noise.

"Yeah," he answers, leading her away from the screaming duo.

The green Ruff notices that their arms are still locked together and narrows his eyes at them as they walk away.

* * *

><p>[1] "I'm so excited!"<p> 


	6. Lest We Forget

**Author's Note: **Here it is, kiddies! The sixth installment of More! Now this is definitely the shortest chapter in the whole story, just a little bit over 2300 words, but trust me, the reason for that is because it's really just a filler chapter. There's some pointless ButtercupxMitch, a little Blues fluff, some ButtercupxBrick flirting but not really anything, and some development for the Reds. Anyway, it'll definitely pick up and the chapter seven is gonna be pretty long anyway.

On a side note, I've been looking at my traffic and I see that the story is getting a pretty good amount of views, but nobody's reviewing. :( I was really hoping that you guys would like it enough to review and reviews make me really happy and make me wanna keep on writing. w Hmm... I think that's it for this author's note. Thanks for reading and _please please please _review. Please?

**Disclaimer: **The plot is mine. Umm... That's about it. BUT I do also own an awesome Blossom pillow. 3

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

**Lest We Forget**

The garage is dark save for the light drifting in from the large, sole window of the Utonium garage.

"I fucking hate house arrest," she mumbles, cross-legged on an old, graying couch in the middle of the large space. There's a bong nestled in the small opening between her legs as she holds the lighter to the bud to take a rip.

"At least your tolerance is almost normal for now," the brown-haired boy replies, gesturing his head to the small, almost empty baggie on the table in front of them, "And you can have visitors and you were out like, three days ago."

"That was for the fucking Gala thing, though," she answers after exhaling, "It doesn't even fucking count." She puts the bong on the table and admires the artistically blown glass for a bit as the haze settles in a little more. She barely realizes it when he places his head in her lap.

"Look," he says, drawing her attention to himself, "This thing we're doing, it's not that I don't like it or anything, but we don't have to keep doing it, you know?"

"What?" she asks, scrunching up her face in confusion, "Fucking?"

"Yeah, that," he answers, nodding, "You're my best friend and stuff, you know? And I think it's the coolest thing ever that we can have sex and still only be best friends. But you and Butch, you know it's different."

"Why are we suddenly talking about me and Butch?" she asks, groaning, "Why are we talking about anything right now? I just… I just wanna not think of anything."

"Look, I'm just saying—"

"Well don't, okay?" She looks down at him, face hardening. "You're killing my high."

"Yeah?" he asks, getting up from her lap to sit up, "I'm killing mine too so you should at least be grateful I'm even trying to fucking talk to you."

"Shut up," she mumbles, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down to kiss her, "Just stop talking. I don't wanna listen anymore."

And as much as he knows it's wrong, he can't bring himself to argue when she straddles his lap and takes off her hoodie.

* * *

><p>The sapphire-eyed girl enters her counter-part's studio, surprised to find him covered in paint splatters from head to toe. "Boomer?" she questions, eyeing the gigantic canvas, "What are you working on?"<p>

"I'm not too sure," he replies honestly, shrugging as he dabs yellow on something that looks a bit like a snake, "I'm just hoping something comes to me before it's too late." He suddenly pauses, looks at her, turns back to his painting, looks back at her, and then his painting one more time. "Can I paint you?"

She looks at him oddly before shrugging her shoulders and smiling at him. "Why not?"

"Promise?" he asks, eyeing her mischievously.

"I have a bad feeling about this," she mutters under her breath, "But fine. I promise."

He grins wickedly before opening more tubes of paint. "Take your shirt off."

"Excuse me?" she asks, her jaw dropping.

"I'm gonna paint you like one of my French girls," he replies sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "You promised I could paint you." He looks at her pointedly, "Besides, it's not like it's anything I've never seen before." He gives her a moment to comply and when she doesn't move, he sighs. "Do it in the name of art, Bubbles."

She sighs before lifting her white tank top up and over her head, careful not to move her carefully placed signature pigtails.

"You know what, take your bra off too."

"Boomer!" she yells, face burning bright red.

"It's _art_, darling," he replies, "_Art._"

She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at him with narrowed eyes.

"Or you know, I could take it off of you myself."

She squeaks and complies and once again crosses her arms over her now-bare chest. "You're a bad man," she tells him, "A very, very bad man that takes advantage of girls."

"Yes, dear, I knew that," he replies to her, rolling his eyes as he takes one of her wrists and gently pulls her towards him before giving her an impish grin, "And you knew that too. Now move your arms."

She grudgingly does so, shutting her eyes so as not to see him ogle her as he usually did. Her eyes shoot open and she takes in a sharp breath when she feels the brush on her breast, coating her skin in aqua-blue paint. "What are you doing?" she asks, almost flinching away.

"Painting you," he replies, dipping his brush once again, "You know I don't do nude paintings, right?"

* * *

><p>He sits on the floor of the room, back against his counterpart's predictably pink bed, blankly staring at the computer nestled on top of his crossed legs. Writer's block really did always get the best of him.<p>

"What are you doing?"

He looks up, seeing the emerald green eyes he expected. "Trying not to shoot myself," he says dryly, "Blossom decided she should head to church for confession."

"Yeah?" asks the green Puff, sitting down next to him, "She does that a lot." She pulls her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself. "You didn't wanna go with her?"

"I have reason to believe I'll spontaneously combust if I step into a church," he asnwers, garnet colored eyes moving back to his (very) slowly progressing document, "Where's Mitch?"

"His parents decided to come home for a bit," she says, shrugging, "They suddenly decide to care every couple of months."

"You know that we don't have anything against him personally, right?"

"What?"

"Mitch," he says, shrugging his shoulders, "We don't hate him or anything like that. It's just-" He struggles with his words a bit, pausing, "This is just the way it has to be."

"Butch hates Mitch," she says instead, ignoring what he said, "And Blossom does too."

"Blossom doesn't hate Mitch," he sighs, briefly wondering where he suddenly decided he could speak on her behalf, "And Butch doesn't either, not really. I think if things were different, they could be friends, you know?"

She opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it to think. Mitch and Butch, friends? Sure they were similar in some ways but they fought a lot. Too much, over stupid things. Stupid things like... Her.

"Yeah," she says instead, nodding, "I guess you're right."

"Were you looking for Blossom or something?" he asks, fingers twitching upon the keys but not typing anything. It frustrates him, the knowledge of what he wants to write is at his fingertips but his mind won't form thoughts coherent enough for sentences.

"Nah," she answers, shaking her head, "Not really. I'm just fucking bored out of my mind and Bubbles and Bloomers—"

"Boomer."

"—Are 'blowing off steam' and Butch isn't exactly in my list of people to spend free time with."

"You did during house arrest," he points out, not even looking at her.

"It was house arrest," she replies, rolling her eyes, "Now what are _you_ attempting to work on?"

"A novel, Buttercup," he replies, dramatically sighing, "Not that you would understand its complexities." He says it with a straight face and she almost glares at him but catches an almost-playful twinkle in his eye.

"Fucker," she laughs, giving him a joking punch in the arm. Oh yes, Brick was _definitely _her favorite of the brothers.

"Am I interrupting something?"

The two snap their heads up to catch sight of the green Ruff, eyes narrowed almost threateningly at them.

"And if we said you were?" challenges Buttercup, looking at him almost daringly, "It's not like you could do anything about it." Deciding it'd be worth her while to fan the flames, she places a hand on the fiery-haired boy's shoulder and rests her head on it. "But I have to admit, Brick's definitely my choice to hang out with of my own free will out of you three."

Brick rolls his eyes at her childishness but doesn't shrug her off of his shoulder, something Butch takes too much notice of.

"Fuck you two," the black-haired boy spits venomously, planting his fist in the dry wall next to him before stalking off angrily.

The two watch him, neither of them really thinking about what to tell the ruby-eyed girl when she gets home and finds a gaping hole in the wall of her room.

* * *

><p>The applause from the crowd, as they realized at a young age, never really gets old. Even sitting in another country to do an interview, the chants are familiar.<p>

The host begins speaking in Japanese, a translator right beside her for the benefits of the Ruffs and Puffs. The two teams are ushered onto the set when they hear their names, sitting on a large couch.

"Welcome to Tokyo," the announcer greets, bowing respectfully.

"We're honored to be here," says Blossom, smiling pleasantly from her seat closest to the translator.

"We love Tokyo!" says Bubbles from next to her, the blonde Puff speaking the language with no trouble at all, "We went on vacation here once when we were five."

The interview waits until the translator is done before asking, "What did you do during your time here?"

"Fought a giant monster," says Buttercup, shrugging her shoulders, "You know, the usual."

"Speaking of fighting," the interviewer says, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "We heard about a fight that involved you and your now-ally Butch and your school gym."

The emerald-eyed Puff tenses and narrows her eyes are the interviewer. "What about it?"

"Do you mind elaborating?"

"Why don't you tell us _exactly _what your sources said?" Butch answers instead, looking threatening, "And we'd be more than happy to fill in the blanks."

"That was the first and only time an accident like that occurred from my team," says the lead Puff, with a hint of finality to her voice, "Rest assured it will not happen again."

The interviewer is silenced for a bit and the studio is quiet except for an awkward cough from Boomer.

"Are there anymore questions?"

* * *

><p>"You're an asshole."<p>

The red-haired Ruff sighs, looking at his jade-eyed brother. "It isn't that I didn't already know that," he replies, garnet-colored eyes bored, "But is there a reason you decided to tell me now?"

Butch avoids the question entirely. "What's going on with you and Buttercup?"

"Isn't that something you should be asking Mitch?"

"He's not a threat," the green Ruff snaps, his hands clenching and unclenching in a twitch.

"And I am?" the red-haired leader scoffs, rolling his eyes, "I see what you're getting at though. I might be much more _equipped _to handle a girl like Buttercup than you or Mitch. Combined too, probably."

The next twitch Butch feels is in his eye, causing his head to jerk to the side rapidly. "Take that back!" he roars, feeling adrenaline make its way through his body, "Take it back now, you piece of shit!"

"Prove me wrong," challenges Brick, and as soon as he says it, Butch comes at him at top speed, landing a fist to his cheek so strong he sends the red-haired Ruff straight through a tree.

Brick sits up, a smirk on his face as he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth, "That all you got, Butchie?"

The middle brother flies at him again, only to have the lead Ruff drop onto his back, grab his Butch's hands as he flies right over him, and launch him into another tree. Eye beams shoot out of his eyes, only to be met with a transparent, neon green energy field.

"Hiding like a coward?" Brick calls out tauntingly, "Come fight me, princess! You'll never win like this!"

And suddenly Butch is right in front of him, saying "I always was the fastest," before landing a kick to his brother's stomach.

The two continue fighting until they collapse, bringing down several trees in the forest surrounding them. They land right next to each other, breathing heavily and sweating profusely, covered in dirt.

"You okay now, man?" asks Brick, turning his head to look at his equally exhausted brother.

"Yeah," Butch strains out, still focusing on breathing, "Thanks for that, man."

"Yeah, you better be fucking grateful. Blossom's gonna fucking murder me for the forest."

Suddenly they see a dark blue streak in the sky, their brother coming to land right beside them. "What are you guys doing?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at the destroyed forest around them.

"Nothing," Butch responds grinning, "Nothing at all."

Boomer eyes them oddly as Brick kicks his knees from behind, causing him to fall onto his back and a yelp. The three simply enjoy each other's company, looking up at the sky.

* * *

><p>"Four days," she mutters, looking at his appearance as he leans on her doorframe, "We've literally been back from Tokyo for <em>four days <em>and you still find a way to destroy something."

His amused smirk widens at her furrowed brow, her ruby-colored eyes rolling.

"Come on, Red," he says, eyeing her from her position on the bed, "Aren't you gonna play doctor with me?"

Her eyes harden as she looks up from her laptop screen. "You can do it yourself." She ignores the bead of sweat on his forehead, ignores the way it makes its way down his cheek, past his smirking lips, onto the column of his neck and the dip of his collarbone before disappearing at the color of the red long sleeve he decided to wear despite the heat.

He rolls his eyes and walks over to her bed, sitting on his designated spot on the floor, one arm next to her, dangerously close to her thigh, as he cranes his neck to see what she's working on. "AP Algebra?"

"Some of us care about our futures, Brick," she says, looking at him pointedly.

"For the record, toots," he says, looking at her with the exact same expression, "Some of us didn't have the option of a future until very recently."

It's almost scary, she realizes, how similar they are in appearance. If it weren't for the slight variation in eye color, she could swear she is looking in a mirror.

"You always had the option," she tells him after a moment of silence, "You just never looked for it."

Her words make him shift, twisting his body to get more comfortable. "Listen, Bloss," he starts, not too sure how to continue, "I don't think I ever really got to tell you: the Professor, your dad I mean, he was a really cool guy. I…" He pauses, unsure of what to say. "I had a lot of respect for him."

"Yeah?" she asks, lowering her eyes to look at the keyboard in her lap, "I… Yeah, he was. Thanks."

A moment of peaceful silence passes between the two.

"You're still covered in dirt."

"I heard Christian girls tend to like it dirty," he shoots back, winking at her.

Then he sees it. It's so impeccably miniscule that he would've missed it if he blinked. There, right at the corners of the pouty pink lips, her mouth curled up into a tiny smile.

* * *

><p>Please review? Please? Please? Please?<p> 


	7. And Then There Were None

**Author's Note: **Guess what this is! That's right, it's the real chapter seven of 'More'! Yay! So... Because of my lack of reviews, I decided it's time for drastic measures. Like... Begging. Please review. Please. Please. **Please**. _Please_. Please. Anyway, I don't really know when chapter eight will be up, but like with all the chapters, it's already been written. It just needs to be re-written and then edited. I'm so desperate for reviews, I might start with threats (like needing a certain number of reviews before updating). I haven't decided yet. I don't know, probably not. I just need to know that I'm improving or not. I don't know. Make my dreams come true or something.

**Warning: **Making out, groping, and the language of teenagers

**Disclaimer: **It's not mine. None of it is. Except Selene and Becca. They're mine. Kinda. Oh, Father Lawrence is mine too! Kinda, he's inspired by Friar Lawrence from Romeo and Juliet. I wonder if anyone caught that. Anyway, the plot's mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven<br>And Then There Were None**

It's hard to ignore all the bodies tightly packed into the club, bumping into her sides with their elbows as she's led to a small round table by her youngest sister and their counter-parts. She finally gets to sit down, blowing her auburn hair out of her eyes.

To her credit, there was about a full two hours of 'We're not eighteen yet, Bubbles, we can't get in!' before finally giving in and allowing herself to be dragged into a club.

"Stop pouting, Blossom," chides Bubbles, rolling her eyes from between Boomer and Brick, "We promised Buttercup we'd come watch her."

"She hates when we come watch her," the lead Puff points out, rolling her ruby-red eyes.

"And _you_ promised you wouldn't be such a fun-sucker tonight," Brick's voice chimes in.

Blossom's jaw drops as Bubbles, Boomer, and Butch try to hide in their laughs. "I am _not_ a fun-sucker!"

"I don't know, Leader Girl, that sounds kinda fun-sucky to me."

The Ruffs and Puffs all turn their heads in the direction of the new voice and Bubbles squeals excitedly, bolting from her seat. "Selene!" she cries, throwing her arms around the girl with orange-red hair.

"Hey Bubbs," Selene replies, patting her on the head like she would a child, "How've you been, Bloss?"

Blossom, to Butch's complete surprise, merely smiles at Selene, before standing from her seat and hugging the girl too. "You're here to watch Buttercup?"

Selene smiles back, chuckling a bit, "I never could keep my eyes off her."

Brick clears his throat, raising a flawless eyebrow at his counter-part.

"Oh, right," chirps Bubbles, nodding, "Introductions!" She grabs the new girls wrist, dragging her around the table. "Guys, this is Selene, Buttercup's ex. Selene, These are the RowdyRuff Boys, Boomer, Brick, and—"

"Butch," Selene interrupts, shooting him a friendly wink, "We've met."

"I knew Buttercup was a lesbian!" Boomer blurts out, the words literally bursting from his mouth.

"Buttercup's a what?" comes the green Puffs voice walking up to them.

"Speak of the devil," Butch chuckles, jade green eyes sweeping over her. If there's one thing that'll separate Buttercup and her band from the other's playing, it's that they don't have to try hard for the grungy, punk rock look.

"Here I was, think I gave you the best three months of your life," Selene teases, a bright smile on her lips, "And you just hid it from everyone."

Buttercup smiles back. "You know I like to keep the really important things to myself."

"I wish you kept that outfit to yourself," Bubbles gasps, interrupting everything in horror, "Is that what you're wearing onstage?"

"What's wrong with it?" Buttercup asks, brow furrowing as she looks at her choice of dress. She's wearing a simple green and gray striped long sleeve polo shirt buttoned all the way up with a pair of skinny jeans folded to cuff around her ankles with green Chucks on her feet.

"I thought it was Blossom's job to wear matronly clothing."

"I'm right here!" the Puff in questions snaps.

"Shut up, Bubbles," says the middle Puff, rolling her emerald green eyes, "I gotta go backstage now. I'll find you guys after."

"Give Mitchie a punch in the head for me," Selene calls after her before turning back to the others, "Anyway, I gotta jet too. Becca's waiting for me."

"Oh, I didn't know you got back together!" Bubbles exclaims happily.

"It was a recent development," Selene admits a bit sheepishly, "We're taking it slow this time, getting to know each other again."

"That's really sweet," Blossom smiles again. Brick's suddenly hit with a feeling that this is the most he's ever seen her smile. "We'll see you around."

Selene walks away in time for the curtains to open, revealing Buttercup and Mitch both holding guitars, Elmer holding a bass, and Harry on the drums. The crowd cheers, and Butch can swear he hears Lloyd and Floyd somewhere in the crowd.

There's absolutely no need for introductions and they start playing, the crowd growing louder every second as the lead Puff realizes there's quite a few members of their junior class here. "Does no one care that you have to be eighteen in here?" she hisses to her sister.

Bubbles pointedly ignores her question, sticking out her tongue and bobbing her head in tune to the music.

_I've watched you change  
>Into a fly<br>I looked away  
>You were on fire<em>

"Holy _crap_," Boomer gasps, looking at Buttercup definitely impressed, "She sounds amazing!" He pauses before turning to his sapphire-eyed counterpart. "Can you do that?"

"She's tone-deaf," Blossom answers before Bubbles can, "Don't look at me like that, we both are."

_I watched a change  
>In you<br>It's like you never  
>Had wings<br>Now you feel  
>So alive<br>I watched you change_

"Whoo! Go Buttercup!" Bubbles cheers, her high pitched voice easily recognized in the crowd. Blossom cheers with her, but much more subtly with claps and less 'whoo's.

Butch tries to ignore the pounding in his chest, almost laughing at himself for being not-so subtly affected by this girl. He ignores Buttercup's emerald green eyes scanning the crowd and landing on Selene with a pretty but still average brown-haired girl he assumes is Becca.

He thinks he imagines it when she stares right into his eyes as she sings.

_I took you home  
>Set you on the glass<br>I pulled of your wings  
>Then I laughed<em>

"You sure got yourself quite a catch there, Butchie," Brick says, smirking at him.

"Jealous?" Butch snaps back, eyes narrowing. From her corner of his vision, he sees Blossom tense, no doubt able to hear their conversation with her super-hearing.

Brick looks right at her, making sure to smirk even wider while giving her a stare that lets her know he knows she was eavesdropping. "Nah."

_I watched a change in you  
>It's like you never<br>Had wings  
>Now you feel<br>So alive  
>I watched you change<em>

Elmer and Harry vocalize in the background of Buttercup's singing, sounding almost mediocre when compared. Suddenly, Buttercup takes a small step away from her mic, surprising everyone as she focuses on playing her guitar.

"What's going on?" Boomer asks, looking around with a confused look on his face.

His question is answered when Mitch leans closer into his mic, his voice raspy but smooth as velvet. The sound makes Blossom herself blush and her ruby red eyes widen.

_I looked at the cross  
>And I looked away<br>I gave you the gun  
>And you<br>Blew me away_

Bubbles exaggeratedly fans herself. "Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," she squeals, "That's _Mitch_! That's what he sounds like! Singing!"

Butch can recognize Selene cheering along with Becca, and suddenly the club sounds much more… Female.

He's thankful when Buttercup steps back up to her mic, but then both of them are singing, their voices melting together like chocolate.

_I watched a change  
>In you<br>It's like you never  
>Had wings<br>Now you feel  
>So alive<br>I watched you change, aah_

"If sex was a sound, that's definitely what it would sound like."

The green Ruff turns as the song ends and sees the twins right next to him, confirming that it probably was them that he heard screaming earlier.

"Does it really not bother _anyone_ that most of us are in here illegally?" Blossom sighs, shaking her head exasperatedly, "I mean, really, is it too much to ask for IDs?"

"Chill, Red," Brick says, rolling his eyes at her, "You're a superhero. No one cares if you're in here because you're too goody-good to do anything."

"Let's go to Papa's!" Boomer cuts in before Blossom can shoot back a retort.

"Pancakes with the PowerPuff Girls at eleven PM?" asks Lloyd, a smile on his face as his eyes light up.

"Count us in!" Floyd finishes excitedly, their twin grins practically beaming.

"Count you in where?" Buttercup asks, her and Mitch walking up to them.

"We're going to Papa's," Bubbles answers, attaching herself to the middle Puff's arm, "Where are Harry and Elmer?"

"Loading the van," Mitch answers, smiling at the way Buttercup tries to get her arm out of her blonde sister's clutches, "I'll send them a text to meet us there."

"Hello?" Blossom interrupts, waving her arms and making everyone look at her, "It's a _school night._"

"No, it's Sunday," Butch answers, rolling his eyes at her.

"Sunday _is _a school night," the auburn-haired Puff answers haughtily, "We have school tomo-mmph mnph." She glares at her garnet-eyed counterpart, narrowing her eyes at him and his hand clamped over her mouth.

"What, are you gonna lick me" he teases, grinning at her wolfishly.

Boomer and Butch begin to pretend to vomit, complete with stomach clutching and hands over their own mouths.

"Harry and Elmer are gonna head over in the van," Mitch confirms, putting his phone back into his pocket before looking at the twins, "How are you guys getting there?"

Floyd holds up keys with a little black eight ball hanging from one of the rings. "We've got the Mom-van."

* * *

><p>They get to the small, well-known diner, and only Blossom is surprised by how many of their classmates are there.<p>

"It's a _school night_," she mutters to herself, shaking her head.

Harry and Lloyd immediately race to a booth and Mitch enlists Floyd to help him move a table and some chairs next to it.

Bubbles shifts a bit. "Guys, are you sure we're allowed to—"

"Don't worry about it, hon," comes the voice of a waitress smacking her gum, "Can I get you some drinks?"

They all get situated in their seats, Brick at the 'head' of the table.

"Just a Coke," he answers, looking at Blossom at his left, "And a strawberry milkshake for her."

"Excuse me," Blossom sputters, obviously appalled, "Don't answer for m—"

"Oh my god," the waitress suddenly gasps, her eyes wide, "I've never seen so many cute pairs of twins before!"

Mitch, Elmer, and Harry all snort, trying to hold back their laughter as Buttercup seethes between Butch and Mitch. Bubbles suddenly stops playing with Boomer's hair, who is sitting right next to her.

Lloyd and Floyd just look at each other. "I think we're cute," one says.

"Right back at us," the other winks. They both turn back to the waitress in sync.

Everyone else finishes up their orders, the waitress leaving before promising to come back for food.

Buttercup leans back in her chair, the two front legs up in the air, and Mitch puts his arm around her shoulders from his seat on the booth, keeping her steady as if on instinct. Butch narrows his eyes noticeably, a small snarl on his face.

"Is that really necessary?" he finally snaps.

The twins, Elmer, Harry, and Mitch ignore the drama, focusing on themselves.

"Is it really any of your business?" his counterpart shoots back, a challenging look on her face.

"Guys," Bubbles whines from across the table, "We're in public. Please stop."

"What the hell do I care where we are?" he snaps at her, voice rising a bit.

"Hey!" the blond Ruff interjects, narrowing his eyes at his brother, "We all know you've got a shit temper-" Blossom crosses herself "-But that doesn't mean you can treat everyone like shit."

"Look at you, standing up for your woman," Butch taunts, a gleam in his eye, "I wonder if you'd be doing the same thing if she wasn't letting you stick your di—"

"Butch," Brick seethes, his voice suddenly menacing and his posture rigid, "Shut. Up."

"It's true though, isn't it?" he continues, ignoring the part of his mind that's telling him he'll regret it, "That's what we're all doing this for. To _fuck._" Blossom crosses herself again. "Because we can't fucking fight anymore." He looks at Bubbles, sneering at her before looking at his own brother. "Play lovebirds all you two want. We all know you're a bad guy, Boomie."

Then a blur of blue light hits the side of Butch's face, his head snapping as it makes contact with his temple. Suddenly his body goes limp, his head falling forward until it hits the table and his arms dangling lifelessly at his sides.

The sapphire eyed Ruff looks down at the table. "I never said I wasn't."

* * *

><p>"But I wanna stay here!"<p>

Mitch sighs, looking at the girl on his doorstep shivering in her yellow (_gold,_ she used to tell him, _it's gold, Mitch_) sweater. Her curly red hair is how he preferred it, let loose with her straightened fringe over her forehead. "Princess," he says, crossing his arms over his chest, "I don't care if you don't wanna stay with your dad. We're _over._ We have been for a while."

'You made sure of that,' he adds bitterly in his head.

"I'm not asking to get back together with you," she points out, rolling her coffee-colored eyes at him, "I'm asking to spend the night." She sighs, shivering again as the wind blows. "We can even spend the night at my place. I just don't wanna be alone with him."

"You're not gonna use me to piss off your dad again," he says, rolling his onyx-colored eyes, "Go home."

"We had some pretty good times in the home theater," she reminds him, not budging a bit, "Remember? Porn on the big screen? Me on you?"

He gives her a genuine smile, though a bit sad. "We were good together, you know," he says, looking into her eyes, "I knew we weren't gonna last forever, and neither of us expected to. But we were good together."

"I know," she responds, and she knows she's being honest without even thinking about it.

"That's why you can't stay," he tells her, shaking his head, "_You_ dumped _me,_ remember?"

"Yeah," she nods, stepping closer to him, "I did." He doesn't take a step back so she places her hands on his chest, feeling the thu-thu-thump of his heart under her finger tips.

"You threw away everything," he continues, moving his hands, one to cup her cheek and the other to her hair, "You said we weren't even in a relationship."

"We weren't," she says back to him, pressing her lips onto the pulse on his neck, "We were just fucking. Just sex."

He growls low in his throat, unconsciously grinding his hips into hers and tightening the grip on her hair as she nips at the area between his neck and shoulder. "Is this what this is now too? Nothing's changed?"

"No," she whispers, her voice hitching at the end when she feels his cold fingertips slip into her hem of her sweater, moving higher, past her stomach, ghosting over her ribs, to her—_oh. _"Nothing's changed."

This time he actually does growl, pulling her back slightly to slam his slightly chapped lips on hers, tasting the lemon lip gloss he always favored over Buttercup's tasteless chapstick.

He rips his shirt off, their lips still connected, as he throws it behind him and he walks backwards into his living room, making sure to nudge the door closed before roughly slamming her back into it.

* * *

><p>There's a loud thudding in her chest as she watches him, eyes widening at the muscles rippling in his back as he pulls his shirt over his head, his pony tail tousled from all of his moving.<p>

"I can feel you staring at me," he says, and she can almost see the smirk on his mouth even with his back turned, "Are you having a heart attack?"

She blushes a red that puts her eyes to shame and curses his super hearing. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she denies, tearing her eyes away from him as he puts on another shirt, "This is my room and I can look around it if I want."

"Your room?" he asks, raising a flawless eyebrow at her, "Sorry to break the news to you, Red, but this is _our _room."

"Excuse me?" she asks, appalled at him, "This room is _mine._ Just like the bed—"

"We can make that ours too."

"—And the closet—"

"Are you ignoring all the stuff I have in there?"

"—And the _dresser_—"

"I have a drawer to myself in that, and we _split_ another drawer. I almost put on one of your shirts."

"We're not together, Brick," she sighs exasperatedly, shaking her head at him in disbelief.

"I never said we were," he points out, rolling his garnet colored eyes at her and taking a daring step closer to her bed, "But the room? It's _ours._" He takes another step. "And the closet? _Ours._"

Another step."The dresser? _Definitely ours._"

Then he's right in front of her, one knee on the bed and his other leg on the floor for balance as he leans forward, his arms trapping her.

Her ruby red eyes are wide as she stares at him, her breaths speeding up almost as fast as the heart that's threatening to jump right out of her rib cage. She composes herself, slightly calming down as she focuses on talking without stuttering. "The bed," she says, not backing down from their staring match, "It's not part yours."

"It's not," he agrees, nodding at her, smirking at the way she still can't take her eyes off of him, "Not yet."

And he resists the urge to kiss her senseless and leaver her writhing beneath him, instead standing up, putting on his signature baseball cap, and then leaving the room.

He comes back later to find his stuff moved outside of the Professor's room.

He moves it back to hers.

* * *

><p>The old tired priest sighs, instantly recognizing the large red bow beyond the mesh screen.<p>

"Father?" she asks, almost uncertainly, "I'm not exactly here to confess. I need advice."

"Advice?" Father Lawrence asks, raising an eyebrow, "I don't know if I'm any good at that but I'm willing to try."

"It's about Brick," she says, looking at her hands in her lap, "I moved his stuff out of my room and he moved it back in. I don't know what to do about him."

"Have you tried calling the police?" the priest jokes, offering her a kind smile.

She looks at him bewilderedly and he shifts in his seat. "Sorry," he coughs uncomfortably, "I was trying to lighten the mood. It was a joke."

"Oh. Heh. Yeah," Blossom responds awkwardly, nodding her head, "A joke. I got that."

"I will admit, though, the circumstances that you have are far beyond what I ever thought I'd encounter in confessionals," he admits, his eyebrows knitting together in concentration, "Blossom, I remember when you started coming to confession about a year ago. You were in here every time you had to fight, every time you said or thought a bad word, you gave yourself up to God completely and I know you'll continue in that path."

He pauses getting his words together.

"The Lord works in mysterious ways, as we both know. But I also know that he would not put anything before you that would require you to make a wrong choice. A mistake, maybe. But not a wrong choice."

She mulls that over in her head, before a smile settles onto her features. "Thank you, Father."

* * *

><p>The blonde Puff floats around her room, humming quietly to herself in a way that makes him smile gently to himself even though it doesn't sound all that great.<p>

"That's really creepy, bro," comes the voice of his jade-eyed brother, standing next to him, "That's your room too, you know. You can be in there."

The blue Ruff says nothing, instead just glaring at Butch.

"Really?" Butch sighs, looking annoyed, "You're still mad about Papa's? I apologized, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't," Boomer snaps, narrowing his eyes, "You woke up and went out about how I couldn't possibly be fucking Bubbles because I didn't have a dick and then Brick knocked you out the old-fashioned way."

"He hit me?" asks the middle brother, offended.

"With a chair," the blonde confirms, "Look Butch, we're brothers. And, unfortunately, we'll always be brothers. But that doesn't mean you can say whatever you want anymore. None of us can, if you haven't noticed."

"Yeah," Butch scoffs, rolling his eyes, "Because of 'holier-than-thou' Blossom."

"It's not just because of Blossom," Boomer tells him, stepping away from the door of Bubbles' room, "It's because of all of them. They love each other and respect each other and all that shit and I think we should get on that too."

Butch opens his mouth to say something, before closing it and digging into the pocket of his jeans. "Here," he says, tossing Boomer a roll of cash.

"Where did you get this?" Boomer asks, looking at his brother.

"It's not stolen," he replies, rolling his eyes, "It's Valentine's Day, idiot. You two both wear something pretty. Your reservation's at seven."

"Reservation where?" Boomer asks, eyes wide.

"At Butter."

"_Butter_?" the topaz-eyed Ruff asks, jaw-dropping, "It's crazy-hard to get reservations there!"

"Yeah, so don't fucking be late," replies Butch, rolling his eyes before turning and walking off, "Oh, and by the way: the love and respect shit you were going on about earlier? Don't ever fucking think we don't have that. I know you're not really a fucking idiot."

Boomer chuckles to himself, pocketing the roll of bills. "Butch," he calls after his brother who's almost out of the door, "I forgive you."

The jade-eyed Ruff says nothing in response and instead lifts his middle finger at his brother before shutting the door.

* * *

><p>Review! -<em>throws confetti<em>- Review! -_pops party popper_- Review! -_blows noise maker-_


	8. Not Until You Leave Me First

**Author's Note:** Whoo-hoo! Another chapter of 'Made for Each Other', done and DONE! Yes, I did decide to change the title from 'More' to 'Made for Each Other'. It just seemed like a better fit for me. Wait till you guys see the development of Bubbles and Boomer :D And I love me some MitchXPrincess ;D Anyway... There are only a few more chapters of this left to go, and then it's on to my ATLA fic that I hope you guys will join me in as well :D Read, refer, and review, but mostly ENJOY!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the PowerPuff Girls but I wish I did. I wish I did.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight<br>Not Until You Leave Me First**

It's a little past seven when the coffee-haired boy leaves his house. He needs to take a breather, just a really long walk to think about things that weed would only stop him from thinking about and really understand what the consequences are.

There's Buttercup, of course. Best friend, first crush, first kiss, blah blah blah. He likes to imagine that he would've ended up with her had the Rowdy Ruff Boys not existed. But that's just the thing: They do exist.

Now he's not stupid, contrary to what his grades say, and he's definitely not as stubborn as his emerald eyed friend, so it's no surprise when he realizes that Buttercup and Butch are gonna end up together.

_He's twelve years old and cowering under a table. There's been an emergency evacuation in the city, something about the RowdyRuff Boys attacking and causing trouble downtown._

_Despite his instincts to get the hell out of the city and to safety, he runs home. Has to check on his mother and father. Surely they were waiting for him there. They wouldn't leave without him._

_He shows up to an empty house. There's gunk on the kitchen floor, probably something his mother was mixing before she dropped it and high-tailed it out of there without thinking of waiting for her only son. The same way there's a fallen sandwich next to the recliner in the living room where his father was most definitely perched._

_Suddenly, it aches inside him and he doesn't exactly know if it's his heart._

_He has no time to feel sorry for himself because there's suddenly a flash of green outside his window. He rushes over but stays crouched low, careful not to be seen. _

_And there she is: All ebony hair and emerald green eyes, covered in dust and rubble and bleeding from a gash on her eyebrow that's only there for a few seconds before it glows white and she's gritting her teeth in what looks like pain._

_It hurts, she told him once—the healing. Says she can feel the muscle pulling itself together and her skin stretching to cover anything that shouldn't be exposed._

_'No pain, no gain, huh?'_

_And before he can bring himself to smile at the memory, she's shooting straight up, a trail of mint green following her flight and a darker forest green is chasing after her._

_He can't really blink as they fight; one split-second and it could all be over. It's not an exaggeration because it's happened before. _

_He realizes there's something different about this fight. No one's winning or losing. It's like they can read each other's thoughts and moves. He realizes they're equal. _

_Equal in a way that he's never seen two people before, not even his parents who were still fairly in love. Equal in a way that told him he would never be enough for that girl, not the way her counter-part is. Her other half._

_He knows exactly where the ache from this realization comes from._

He smiles to himself. It had taken quite a bit on his part, but he really did get over her. He would always love her, he knew that. But he never had the burning need to be with her that way anymore. That was now reserved for someone else.

Princess. Princess Princess Princess.

What was he going to do with her?

She is spoiled and vain and horrid and he realizes that he should probably find something good to think about her but nothing comes to mind. He loves the spoiled and vain and horrid and Buttercup is just so goddamn _good_ he can't stand it sometimes.

Princess is painfully real, doesn't bother to tone herself down and doesn't care about other people or their feelings but that doesn't stop him from loving her. Maybe he's a glutton for punishment.

_I'm always gonna put myself first,_ she tells him one day, _I'm not gonna change for you. This is who I am, and if you don't like it, you can go. I'm not kind, I'm not giving, and I'm not looking for someone to save me._

He supposes that should have driven him away. She'd care about him, sure. Maybe even love him one day. But not as much as she loves herself. Never as much as she loves herself.

And he's so lost in his thoughts of her that he doesn't even notice that there are tires screeching across the road and headlights are shining right at him until there's a flash of red in front of his eyes and then nothing.

* * *

><p>The blonde Puff has never been fond of hospitals. They're white and sterile and there's no color anywhere, they remind her of death. Buttercup is the healer (ironically), not her.<p>

They got the call in the morning; Mitch was in the hospital after getting hit by a car during a walk outside and the doctors didn't know he was a friend of Buttercup's until he was woken up from his drug-induced sleep. Boomer and his brothers were collecting the twins, Harry, Mike, and Elmer.

"How are you feeling?" asks the jade-eyed sister, eyeing her friend in concern.

"Like I just got hit by a car," he responds, wincing as he lets out a dry laugh, "Princess here?"

"We don't know if the doctors called her," says Blossom icily, "I mean it's not like you two are back together."

"Lay off, Bloss, I just got hit by a freaking car," he groans loudly, no doubt exaggerating while waving his casted right arm, "I just wanted to know if she'd stop thinking about herself enough to come see me. You know, because my arm is broken and I'm pretty sure I almost died."

"Doubt it," Bubbles scoffs under her breath, "She doesn't care about anyone. Can you do anything about the pain, Buttercup?"

"Don't," Mitch says a bit roughly, the memory of Buttercup healing her gashed forehead fresh in his mind, "I've been healed by you before and it'll probably feel like getting hit by the car again. I'd rather do this the old fashioned way."

"For two weeks?" Buttercup asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

"For two weeks," he confirm, nodding.

No one notices Bubbles slipping out of the room and into the hallways, the sterile smell of the hospital too much for her to deal with in a small room. The hallways look like they've been scrubbed clean, shiny in a way that's reserved for school hallways and museums.

She continues down the hall, blonde hair swaying from its pigtails as she moves.

And then she sees her. Curly red hair with a straight fringe falling into her coffee-colored eyes, freckles scattered across her nose and dusting her cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" Princess sneers at the sapphire-eyed Puff.

"Mitch," Bubbles answers, keeping herself pleasant, "He got hit by a car."

The red-haired girl flinches, nods. "I know," and suddenly seems shy and unsure of herself, "Did he—I mean—Did he, you know, ask for me?"

Bubbles knows for the life of her that she should be kind and honest and compassionate and _truthful_. That she shouldn't lie to this girl with the intention of hurting her, that she's a hero and there's a certain ideal that she has to live up to.

So she says, "He didn't ask for you at all."

She doesn't even feel bad when Princess bites her lower lip hard enough for it to bloom red before nodding and turning to leave, never bothering to see Mitch.

Bubbles walks out of the hospital too, oddly at peace with herself.

* * *

><p>Butch knows he should stop skipping class to get high in Selene's janitor's closet, he does. But he really can't bring himself to. Math is just so goddamn <em>boring <em>and it almost makes him wanna cry.

"What the fuck are you doing in here, Butch?"

_Shit._

"Hey, bro," he replies, smiling brightly at the sight of his garnet-eyed brother and holding up his joint, "Want some?"

Brick sighs, the sound suspiciously similar to disappointment. "Sure." He sits down next to Butch, taking the offering in his hand and bringing it to his mouth. "Skipping Biology?"

"Math," Butch answers. The haze in his head makes him nod at absolutely nothing and mouth feels clammy as he unwraps a Snickers bar he took out of his backpack. "Where's Boomer?" he asks with a full mouth.

"In class," Brick snorts, the blur settling in a bit, "Where else would he be?"

Butch just rolls his eyes and Brick hears something that sounds suspiciously like a mutter of 'Pussy' coming from his brother's general direction. There's an awkward silence on both parts, neither sure how to continue.

"Do you think he's in love with her?"

"What?" asks Brick, almost surprised that his brother is forming cohesive thoughts.

"Boomer," Butch answers, nodding his head slowly, "You think he's in love with her?"

Brick sighs and takes another hit. "I don't fucking know, man. Do you?"

"I don't know," the jade-eyed boy replies, shaking his head, "It's just… Damn, they could've been in real love, you know?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You know what the fuck I'm talking about," Butch shoots back, rolling his eyes, "Like, if none of this made-for-you shit was real. Like, if we just decided one day to be _good_ with no chemical imbalance or anything, they could've fallen in love."

"Like you and Buttercup?" the garnet-eyed boy asks, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

"_Nothing_ like me and Buttercup," Butch says, chuckling bitterly, "I tried that already remember? I wouldn't wish that shit on anyone, least of all my fucking brother."

They settle down into the quiet, each of them being attacked by the memories of the tragedy that was Butch and Buttercup.

"This is the worst grass I've ever smoked," Butch concludes.

* * *

><p>"I was wondering if you were ever gonna come see me."<p>

The red-haired girl crosses her arms over her chest and turns away. "Shut up, Mitch. I didn't have to show up."

"I know you didn't," he says, rolling his obsidian-colored eyes and nodding, "I just missed you, okay?"

The freckled girl says nothing, instead continuing to stand awkwardly at the door of the hospital room.

"I almost _died,_ Princess," he tells her, scooting over on the bed to make room for her, "You still can't find it in that empty heart of yours to tell me you care about me?"

She tenses up and makes no move to sit next to him. "That's not fair, you know I do."

"Just because I know you do doesn't mean I don't wanna hear it," he replies, looking at her pointedly. He runs a hand through his floppy brown hair and sighs. "Come sit next to me," he asks, "Please?"

She uncrosses her arms and walks over to his bedside cautiously. "Nothing else is broken, right?"

"Nothing but my arm and my pride," he answers, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her halfway across his body and smirking, "Did you wanna play nurse?"

"Hate to break it to you," she says, rolling her eyes at the hopeful look on his face, "But playing nurse is only sexy if no one's actually in the hospital."

"Princess," he says, looking comically serious, "I broke an arm. My _right_ arm. Surely you remember the significance of my right arm."

She fights the blush threatening her cheeks and lets out a laugh. "Second base and short-stop with greatly be missed."

"This is no joking matter," he says, still serious, "This is important to my sanity."

"You have a left hand," she points out, raising an eyebrow.

"So do you."

"Why not get Buttercup to do it?" Princess sneers.

His eyes widen at her suggestion, and then his expression softens. He trails his fingers up her thigh, relishing the feel of the bare skin not covered by her long socks or short purple skirt. "We haven't done anything since you spent the night at my house."

Her eyes widen in surprise as she searches his face for any traces of a lie. "Why?"

"Because I don't want her the way I want you," he replies easily, shrugging.

"You did," she accuses, furrowing her brow at him.

"Yeah, when I was twelve and she was the only girl I'd ever really talked to," he scoffs, rolling his eyes, "Look, Buttercup's great and my best friend and all that. And we slept together a couple of times, I wouldn't take that back. But any time I had any sliver of hope that you and I would get back together, I never so much as looked at her in that way."

"Why do I feel like you're lying to me?" she asks, frowning.

"Because you always feel like I'm lying to you," Mitch responds, bringing her wrist up to his lips to place a kiss on her pulse, "Because you find it so hard to believe that you're trying to make up something wrong with me," a kiss on each fingertip, "Because you're scared you want me back," he pulls the material of her sweater down, exposing her shoulder and she can hear his heart monitor speed up a bit, "Because in the event that I _am _lying, which I'm _not,_ you can tell yourself you knew all along."

Her skin feels heated and flushed, little trails of shivers traveling wherever he touched her. She gasps when she feels his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh in between her neck and shoulder and her hands grip at his hair as he soothes the tender spot with his tongue.

"If there's a mark there, I'll murder you," she threatens.

He says nothing in response, instead smirking and continuing his work.

* * *

><p>Her long, blonde pigtails trail behind her as she enters her room, not at all surprised to find her counter-part lying on her bed, his arms behind his head. He smiles up goofily at her when he sees her.<p>

"Are you trying to seduce me?" she asks, a smirk making its way onto her face as she floats to her vanity.

"It depends," he shrugs, standing up and walking over to her, "Are you seducible?"

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, still smiling as she searches around for her make-up remover. "Not at the moment. I just got home and I'd like a rest."

The blue Ruff lets out an exaggerated groan and wraps his arms around her waist. "It's been a while since we spent time together, Bubs."

He sees her raise an eyebrow in her reflection. "What are you talking about, Boomer?" she asks, "We spend every night together."

"I mean _regular _time together," he asserts, rolling his topaz blue eyes, "Dates and stuff."

He feels her stiffen in his hold, staring at her frozen reflection. Her sapphire-blue eyes make contact with his hopeful gaze in the mirror and she sighs. "Boomer," she starts, unsure of how to continue, "We're not…" She pauses, taking a deep breath. "You're not my boyfriend."

She sees his face fall and feels his hold on her waist slacken. "I know that already," he says, nodding to himself, "But I could be, if you wanted me to."

This time she avoids looking at him at all, instead once again focusing on removing her eyeshadow. He still catches the guilty look in her eyes.

"You _don't_ want me to, do you?" he asks, defeated.

She sighs as he completely lets go of her and takes a step back. "Boomer, look—"

"You know what," he interrupts, avoiding looking at her face, "I think I'm gonna head home tonight. I'm sure Mojo gets really lonely."

She turns to see him making his way to her window, ready to fly out of it. She rushes over to him and takes a hold of his wrist. "Will you please just _wait_?"

"No!" he yells, launching his fist at the wall next to him, creating a large hole. Suddenly, the door to her room flies open and their siblings are there, checking to see about the noise.

"What the fuck is going on?" spits Buttercup, eyes looking murderously at Boomer.

Blossom crosses herself, quickly muttering the prayer under her breath. His brothers are eyeing him almost bewilderedly, their faces almost shocked.

"Absolutely nothing," the youngest Ruff hisses, wrenching his wrist away from his counterpart, "Nothing at all."

And he shoots out of the window, a dark blue streak following him as he goes.


End file.
